IMPRESSIONS 


OP 


THEOPHRASTUS     SUCH 


By  GEORGE   ELIOT 

AUTHOR    OF 
"ADAM  BEDE"    "ROMOLa"    "  MIDDLEMARCH"   "  DANIEL  DERONDA"  ETC. 


"Suspicione  si  quis  errabit  sua, 
Et  rapiet  ad  se,  quod  erit  commune  omnium, 
Stulte  nudabit  animi  conscientiam. 
Huic  excusatum  me  velim  nihilominus: 
Neque  enim  notare  singulos  mens  est  mihi, 
Verum  ipsain  vitam  et  mores  hominum  ostendere." 

— Ph-sdrps. 


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e^r 


-^1 


CONTENTS. 


OTAP.  PAGE 

I.  Looking  Inward 5 


II.  Looking  Backward 21 

III.  How  we  Encourage  Kesearch 40 

IV.  A  Man  surprised  at  his  Originality 58 

V.  A  Too  Deferential  Man 09 

VI.  Only  Temper 79 

VII.  A  Political  Molecule 88 

1/    VIII.  The  Watch-dog  of  Knowledge 94 

IX,  A  Half-breed 104 

[/-    X.  Debasing  the  Moral  Currency 114 

XL  The  Wasp  credited  waTH  the  Honey-comb     .     .     .  123 

XIL   "So  Young!" 139 

XIII.  How  we  come  to  Give  ourselves  False  Testimoni- 

als, AND  Believe  in  Them 146 

XIV.  The  Too  Ready  Writer    . 158 

{/ '  ,^V.  Diseases  of  Small  Authorship 170 

[/^XVI.  Moral  Swindlers 182 

v^XXVII.  Shadows  of  the  Coming  Race 194 

XVIIL  The  Modern  Hep!  Hep!  Hep! 202 


IMPRESSIONS 


OF 


THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 


I. 

LOOKING  INWARD. 


It  is  my  habit  to  give  an  account  to  myself  of  the 
characters  I  meet  with ;  can  I  give  any  true  account 
of  my  own  'i  _I^  am  a  bachelor,  without  domestic  djs^. 
.tractions  of  any  sort,  and  have  all  my  life  been  an 
attentive  companion  to  myself,  flattering  my  nature 
agreeably  on  plausible  occasions,  reviling  it  rather  bit- 
terly when  it  mortified  me,  and  in  general  remember- 
ing its  doings  and  sufferings  with  a  tenacity  which  is 
too  apt  to  raise  surprise,  if  not  disgust,  at  the  careless 
inaccuracy  of  my  acquaintances,  who  impute  to  me 
opinions  I  never  held,  express  their  desire  to  convert 
me  to  my  favorite  ideas,  forget  whether  I  have  ever 
been  to  the  East,  and  are  capable  of  being  three  several 
times  astonished  at  my  never  having  told  them  before 
of  my  accident  in  the  Alps,  causing  me  the  nervous 
shock  which  has   ever   since  notably  diminished  my 


6  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

digestive  powers.  Surely  I  oiiglit  to  know  myself 
better  than  these  indiffei*ent  outsiders  can  know  me ; 
nay,  better  even  than  my  intimate  friends,  to  whom  I 
have  never  breathed  those  items  of  my  inward  expe- 
rience which  have  chiefly  shaped  my  life. 

Yet  I  have  often  been  forced  into  the  reflection  that 
even  the  acquaintances  who  are  as  forgetful  of  my 
biography  and  tenets  as  they  would  be  if  I  were  a 
dead  philosopher,  are  probably  aware  of  certain  points 
in  me  which  may  not  be  included  in  my  most  active 
suspicion.  We  sing  an  exquisite  passage  out  of  tune, 
and  innocently  repeat  it  for  the  greater  pleasure  of 
our  hearers.  Who  can  be  aware  of  what  his  foreign 
accent  is  in  the  ears  of  a  native?  And  how  can  a 
man  be  conscious  of  that  dull  perception  which  causes 
him  to  mistake  altogether  what  will  make  him  agree- 
able to  a  particular  woman,  and  to  persevere  eagerly 
in  a  behavior  which  she  is  privately  recording  against 
him?  I  have  had  some  confidences  from  my  female 
friends  as  to  their  opinion  of  other  men  whom  I  have 
observed  trying  to  make  themselves  amiable,  and  it  haa 
occurred  to  me  that  though  I  can  hardly  be  so  blun 
dering  as  Lippns  and  the  rest  of  those  mistaken  candi 
dates  for  favor  whom  I  have  seen  ruining  their  chance 
by  a  too  elaborate  personal  canvass,  I  must  still  come 
under  the  common  fatality  of  mankind,  and  share  the 
liability  to  be  absurd  without  knowing  that  I  am 
absurd.  It  is  in  the  nature  of  foolish  reasoning  to 
seem  good  to  the  foolish  reasoner.  Hence,  with  all 
possible   study  of  myself,  with  all  possible    effort  to 


LOOKING   INWARD.  7 

escape  from  the  pitiable  illusion  which  makes  men 
laugh,  shriek,  or  curl  the  lip  at  Folly's  likeness,  in  to- 
tal unconsciousness  that  it  resembles  themselves,  I  am 
obliged  to  recognize  that  while  there  are  secrets  in  me 
unguessed  by  others,  these  others  have  certain  items 
of  knowledge  about  the  extent  of  mj  powers  and  the 
figure  I  make  with  them,  which  in  turn  are  secrets  nn- 
guessed  by  me.  When  I  was  a  lad  I  danced  a  horn- 
pipe with  arduous  scrupulosity,  and  while  suffering 
pangs  of  pallid  shyness,  was  yet  proud  of  my  supe- 
riority as  a  dancing  pupil,  imagining  for  myself  a  high 
place  in  the  estimation  of  beholders ;  but  I  can  now 
picture  the  amusement  they  had  in  the  incongruity  of 
my  solenm  face  and  ridiculous  legs.  What  sort  of 
hornpipe  am  I  dancing  now  ? 

Thus,  if  I  laugh  at  you,  O  fellow -men  !  if  I  trace  I 
with_curious  interest  your  labyrinthine  self-delusions, 
note  the  inconsistencies  in  jour  zealous  adhesions,  and 
smile  at  your  helpless  endeavors  in  a  rashly  chosen 
part,  it  is  not  that  I  feel  myself  aloof  from  you :  the 
more  intimately  I  seem  to  discerr^  your  weaknesses, 
the  stronger  to   me  is  the  proof  that  I  share  them. 
How  otherwise  could  I  get  the  discernment  ? — for  even  ■Vi(Vv 
what  we  are  averse  to,  what  we  vow  not  to  entertain,  O^fi^j 
must  have  shaped  or  sliadowed  itself  within  us  as  a  ^^ 
possibility  before  we  can  think  of  exorcising  it.     No 
man  can  know  his  brother  simply  as  a  spectator.    Dear 
blunderers,  I  am  one  of  you.     I  wince  at  the  fact,  but 
I  am  not  ignorant  of  it,  that  I  too  am  laughable  on 
unsuspected  occasions;  nay,  in  the  very  tempest  and 


8  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

■whirlwind  of  my  anger,  I  include  myself  under  my 
own  indignation.  If  the  human  race  has  a  bad  repu^ 
tation,  I  percei\e  that  I  cannot  escape  being  compro- 
mised. And  thus,  while  I  carry  in  myself  the  key  to 
other  men's  experience,  it  is  only  by  observing  others 
that  I  can  so  far  correct  my  self-ignorance  as  to  arrive 
at  the  certainty  that  I  am  liable  to  commit  myself 
unawares,  and  to  manifest  some  incompetency  which 
I  know  no  more  of  than  the  blind  man  knows  of  his 
image  in  the  glass. 

Is  it  then  possible  to  describe  one's  self  at  once  faith- 
fully and  fully?  In  all  autobiography  there  is,  nay, 
ought  to  be,  an  incompleteness  which  may  have  the 
effect  of  falsity.  We  are  each  of  us  bound  to  reticence 
by  the  piet}^  we  owe  to  those  who  have  been  nearest  to 
us  and  have  had  a  mingled  influence  over  our  lives; 
by  the  fellow-feeling  which  should  restrain  us  from 
turning  our  volunteered^ and  2)icked  confessions  into  an 
act  of  accusation  against  others,  who  have  no  chance  of 
vindicating  themselves;  and  most  of  all  by  that  rev- 
erence for  the  higher  efforts  of  our  common  nature, 
which  commands  us  to  bury  its  lowest  fatalities,  its 
invincible  remnants  of  the  brute,  its  most  agonizing 
struggles  with  temptation,  in  unbroken  silence.  But 
the  incompleteness  which  comes  of  self-ignorance  may 
be  compensated  by  self-betrayal.  A  man  who  is  af- 
fected to  tears  in  dwelling  on  the  generosity  of  his 
own  sentiments  makes  me  aware  of  several  things  not 
included  under  those  terms.  Who  has  sinned  more 
against    those    three    duteous    reticences    than    Jean 


LOOKING   INWARD.  9 

Jacques?  Yet  half  our  impressions  of  his  character 
come  not  from  what  he  means  to  convey,  but  from 
what  he  unconsciously  enables  us  to  discern. 

This  naive  veracity  of  self-presentation  is  attainable 
by  the  slenderest  talent  on  the  most  trivial  occasions. 
The  least  lucid  and  impressive  of  orators  may  be  per- 
fectly successful  in  showing  us  the  weak  23oints  of 
his  grammar.  Hence  I  too  may  be  so  far  like  Jean 
Jacques  as  to  communicate  more  than  I  am  aware  of. 
I  am  not,  indeed,  writing  an  autobiography,  or  pretend- 
ing to  give  an  unreserved  description  of  myself,  but 
only  offering  some  slight  confessions  in  an  apologetic 
light,  to  indicate  that  if  in  my  absence  you  dealt  as 
freely  with  my  unconscious  weaknesses  as  I  have  dealt 
with  the  unconscious  weaknesses  of  others,  I  should  not 
feel  myself  warranted  by  common-sense  in  regarding 
your  freedom  of  observation  as  an  exceptional  case  of 
evil-speaking ;  or  as  malignant  interpretation  of  a  char- 
acter which  really  offers  no  handle  to  just  objection  ; 
or  even  as  an  unfair  use  for  your  amusement  of  disad- 
vantages which,  since  they  are  mine,  should  be  regard- 
ed with  more  than  ordinary  tenderness.  Let  me  at 
least  try  to  feel  myself  in  the  ranks  with  my  fellow- 
men.  It  is  true,  that  1  would  rather  not  hear  either 
your  M'ell-founded  ridicule  or  your  judicious  strictures. 
Though  not  averse  to  finding  fault  with  myself,  and 
conscious  of  deserving  lashes,  I  like  to  keep  the  scourge 
in  my  own  discriminating  hand.  I  never  felt  myself 
sufficiently  meritorious  to  like  being  hated  as  a  proof 
of  my  superiority,  or  so  thirsty  for  improvement  as  to 

1* 


10  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

desire  that  all  my  acquaintances  should  give  me  their 
candid  opinion  of  me.  I  really  do  not  want  to  learn 
from  my  enemies  :  I  prefer  having  none  to  learn  from. 
Instead  of  being  glad  when  men  nse  me  despitef  ully,  I 
wish  they  would  behave  better,  and  find  a  more  amia- 
ble occupation  for  their  intervals  of  business.  In  brief, 
after  a  close  intimacy  with  myself  for  a  longer  period 
than  I  choose  to  mention,  I  find  within  me  a  perma- 
nent longing  for  approbation,  sympathy,  and  love. 

Yet  I  am  a  bachelor,  and  the  person  I  love  best  has 
never  loved  me,  or  known  that  I  loved  her.  Though 
continually  in  society,  and  caring  about  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  my  neighbors,  I  feel  myself,  so  far  as  my  per- 
sonal lot  is  concerned,  uncared  for  and  alone.  "  Your 
own  fault,  my  dear  fellow!''  said  Minutius  Felix,  one 
day  that  I  had  incautiously  mentioned  this  uninterest- 
ino;  fact.  And  he  was  rio'ht — in  senses  other  than  he 
intended.  Why  should  I  expect  to  be  admired,  and 
have  my  company  doted  on  ?  I  have  done  no  ser- 
vices to  my  country  beyond  those  of  every  peaceable 
orderly  citizen  ;  and  as  to  intellectual  contribution,  my 
only  published  work  was  a  failure,  so  that  I  am  spoken 
of  to  inqniring  beholders  as  "  the  author  of  a  book  you 
have  probably  not  seen."  (The  work  was  a  humorous 
romance,  unique  in  its  kind,  and  I  am  told  is  mucli 
tasted  in  a  Cherokee  translation,  where  the  jokes  are 
rendered  with  all  the  serious  eloquence  characteristic 
of  the  Red  races.)  This  sort  of  distinction,  as  a  writer 
nobody  is  likely  to  have  read,  can  hardly  counteract  an 
indistinctness  in  my  articulation,  Avhich  the  best-inten- 


LOOKING   INWARD.  11 

tioned  loudness  will  not  remedy.  Then,  in  some  quar- 
ters my  awkward  feet  are  against  me,  the  length  of  my 
upper  lip,  and  an  inveterate  way  I  have  of  walking 
with  my  head  foremost  and  my  chin  projecting.  One 
can  become  only  too  well  aware  of  such  things  by 
looking  in  the  glass,  or  in  that  other  mirror  held  up 
to  nature  in  the  frank  opinions  of  street -boys,  or  of 
our  Free  People  travelling  by  excursion  train ;  and  no 
doubt  they  account  for  the  half-suppressed  smile  which 
I  liave  observed  on  some  fair  faces  when  I  have  first 
been  presented  before  them.  This  direct  perceptive 
judgment  is  not  to  be  argued  against.  But  I  am 
tempted  to  remonstrate  when  the  physical  points  I 
have  mentioned  are  apparently  taken  to  warrant  un- 
favorable inferences  concerning  my  mental  quickness. 
With  all  the  increasino-  uncertain tv  which  modern 
progress  has  thrown  over  the  relations  of  mind  and 
body,  it  seems  tolerably  clear  that  wit  cannot  be  seated 
in  the  upper  lip,  and  that  the  balance  of  tlie  haunches 
in  walkino;  has  nothing:  to  do  with  the  subtle  discrimi- 
ration  of  ideas.  Yet  strangers  evidently  do  not  ex- 
pect me  to  make  a  clever  observation,  and  my  good 
things  are  as  unnoticed  as  if  they  were  anonymous 
l^ictures.  I  have  indeed  had  the  mixed  satisfaction  of 
finding  that  when  they  were  appropriated  by  some  one 
else  they  were  found  remarkable,  and  even  brilliant. 
It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  tliat  I  am  not  rich,  have  nei- 
ther stud  nor  cellar,  and  no  very  high  connections  such 
as  give  to  a  look  of  imbecility  a  certain  prestige  of  in- 
heritance through  a  titled  line;  just  as  "the  Austrian 


12  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

lip"  confers  a  grandeur  of  histoi-ical  associations  on  a 
kind  of  feature  whicli  might  make  us  reject  an  adver- 
tising footman,  I  have  now  and  then  done  harm  to  a 
good  cause  by  speaking  for  it  in  public,  and  have  dis- 
covered too  late  that  my  attitude  on  the  occasion  would 
more  suitably  have  been  that  of  negative  beneficence. 
Is  it  really  to  the  advantage  of  an  opinion  that  I  should 
be  known  to  hold  it  ?  And  as  to  the  force  of  my  argu- 
ments, that  is  a  secondary  consideration  with  audiences 
who  have  given  a  new  scope  to  the  expede  Herculem 
principle,  and  from  awkward  feet  infer  awkward  fal- 
lacies. Once,  when  zeal  lifted  me  on  my  legs,  I  dis- 
tinctly heard  an  enlightened  artisan  remark, "  Here's 
a  rum  cut!" — and  doubtless  he  reasoned  in  the  same 
way  as  the  elegant  Glycera  when  she  politely  puts  on 
an  air  of  listening  to  me,  but  elevates  her  eyebrows 
and  chills  her  glance  in  sign  of  predetermined  neu- 
trality :  both  have  their  reasons  for  judging  the  quality 
of  my  speech  beforehand. 

This  sort  of  reception  to  a  man  of  affectionate  dis- 
position, who  has  also  the  innocent  vanity  of  desiring 
to  be  agreeable,  has  naturally  a  depressing  if  not  em- 
bittering tendency ;  and  in  early  life  I  began  to  seek 
for  some  consoling  point  of  view,  some  warrantable 
method  of  softening  the  hard  pease  I  had  to  walk  on, 
some  comfortable  fanaticism  which  might  supply  the 
needed  self-satisfaction.  At  one  time  I  dwelt  mucli 
on  the  idea  of  compensation ;  trying  to  believe  that  I 
was  all  the  wiser  for  my  bruised  vanity,  that  I  had  the 
higher  place  in  the  true  spiritual  scale,  and  even  that 


LOOKING  INWARD.  13 

a  day  might  come  when  some  visible  triumph  would 
place  me  in  the  French  heaven  of  having  the  laughers 
on  my  side.  But  I  presently  perceived  tliat  this  was 
a  very  odious  sort  of  self-cajolery.  Was  it  in  the  least 
true  that  I  was  wiser  than  several  of  my  friends  who 
made  an  excellent  figure,  and  were  perhaps  praised  a 
little  beyond  their  merit?  Is  the  ugly  unready  man 
in  the  corner,  outside  the  current  of  conversation, 
really  likely  to  have  a  fairer  view  of  things  than  tlie 
agreeable  talker,  whose  success  strikes  the  unsuccess- 
ful as  a  repulsive  example  of  forwardness  and  conceit  ? 
And  as  to  compensation  in  future  years,  would  the  fact 
that  I  myself  got  it  reconcile  me  to  an  order  of  things 
in  which  I  could  see  a  multitude  with  as  bad  a  share 
as  mine,  who,  instead  of  getting  their  corresponding 
compensation,  were  getting  beyond  the  reach  of  it  in 
old  age  ?  AVhat  could  be  more  contemptible  than  the 
mood  of  mind  which  makes  a  man  measure  the  jus- 
tice of  divine  or  human  law  by  the  agreeableness  of 
his  own  shadow  and  the  ample  satisfaction  of  his  own 
desires  ? 

I  dropped  a  form  of  consolation  which  seemed  to 
be  encouraging  me  in  the  persuasion  that  my  discon- 
tent was  the  chief  evil  in  the  world,  and  my  benefit 
the  soul  of  good  in  that  evil.  May  there  not  be  at 
least  a  partial  release  from  the  imprisoning  verdict 
that  a  man's  philosophy  is  the  formula  of  his  person- 
ality ?  In  certain  branches  of  science  we  can  ascer- 
tain our  personal  equation,  the  measure  of  difference 
between  our  own  judgments  and  an  average  standard: 


14  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

may  there  not  be  some  corresponding  correction  of  onr 
personal  partialities  in  moral  theorizing?  If  a  squint 
or  other  ocular  defect  disturbs  my  vision,  I  can  get  in- 
structed in  the  fact,  be  made  aware  that  my  condition 
is  abnormal,  and  either  through  spectacles  or  diligent 
imagination  I  can  learn  the  average  appearance  of 
things :  is  there  no  remedy  or  corrective  for  that  in- 
ward squint  which  consists  in  a  dissatisfied  egoism  ov 
other  want  of  mental  balance?  In  my  conscience  I 
saw  that  the  bias  of  personal  discontent  was  just  as 
misleading  and. odious  as  the  bias  of  self-satisfaction. 
Whether  we  look  through  the  rose-colored  glass  or  the 
indigo,  we  are  equalh'  far  from  the  hues  which  tlie 
healthy  human  eye  beliolds  in  heaven  above  and  earth 
below,  I  began  to  dread  ways  of  consoling  which 
were  really  a  flattering  of  nati^•e  illusions,  a  feeding-up 
into  monstrosity  of  an  inward  growth  already  dispro- 
portionate ;  to  get  an  especial  scorn  for  that  scorn  of 
mankind  which  is  a  transmuted  disappointment  of  pre- 
posterous claims ;  to  watch  witli  peculiar  alarm  lest 
what  I  called  mj^  philosophic  estimate  of  the  human 
lot  in  general,  should  be  a  mere  prose  h'ric  expressing 
my  own  pain  and  consequent  bad  temper.  The  stand- 
ing-ground worth  striving  after  seemed  to  be  some 
Delectable  Mountain,  whence  I  could  see  things  in 
proportions  as  little  as  possible  determined  by  that 
self-partiality  which  certainly  plays  a  necessarj-  part 
in  our  bodilv  sustenance,  but  has  a  starvins;  effect  on 
the  mind. 

Thus  I  finally  gave  up  any  attempt  to  make  out  that 


LOOKING   INWARD.  15 

I  preferred  cutting  a  bad  figure,  and  that  I  liked  to  be 
despised,  because  in  this  way  I  was  getting  more  virtu- 
ous than  my  successful  rivals ;  and  I  have  long  looked 
with  suspicion  on  all  views  which  are  recommended  as 
peculiarly  consolatory  to  wounded  vanity  or  other  per- 
sonal disappointment.  The  consolations  of  egoism  are 
simply  a  change  of  attitude  or  a  resort  to  a  new  kind 
of  diet  which  soothes  and  fattens  it.  Fed  in  this  way, 
it  is  apt  to  become  a  monstrous  spiritual  pride,  or  a 
chuckling  satisfaction  that  the  final  balance  will  not 
be  against  us,  but  against  those  who  now  eclipse  us. 
Examining  the  world  in  order  to  find  consolation  is 
very  much  like  looking  carefully  over  the  pages  of  a 
great  book  in  order  to  find  our  own  name,  if  not  in 
the  text,  at  least  in  a  laudatory  note :  whether  we  find 
what  we  want  or  not,  our  preoccupation  has  hindered 
us  from  a  true  knowledge  of  the  contents.  Bat  an  at- 
tention fixed  on  the  main  theme  or  various  matter  of 
the  book  would  deliver  us  from  that  slavish  subjection 
to  our  own  self-importance.  And  I  had  the  miglity 
volume  of  the  world  before  me.  Kay,  I  had  the  strug- 
gling action  of  a  myriad  lives  around  me,  each  single 
life  as  dear  to  itself  as  mine  to  me.  Was  there  no 
escape  here  from  this  stupidity  of  a  murmuring  self- 
occupation  ?  Clearly  enough,  if  anything  hindered  my 
thouglit  from  rising  to  the  force  of  passionately  inter- 
ested contemplation,  or  my  poor  pent-up  pond  of  sensi- 
tiveness from  widening  into  a  beneficent  river  of  svm- 
pathy,  it  was'my  own  dulness ;  and  though  I  could 
not  make  myself  the  reverse  of  shallow  all  at  once, 


16  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

I  had  at  least  learned  where  I  had  better  turn  my 
attention. 

Something  came  of  this  alteration  in  my  point  of 
view,  though  I  admit  that  the  result  is  of  no  striking 
kind.  It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  utter  modest  de- 
nials, since  none  have  assured  me  that  I  have  a  vast 
intellectual  scope,  or — what  is  more  surprising,  consid- 
ering I  have  done  so  little — that  I  might,  if  I  chose, 
surpass  any  distinguished  man  whom  they  wish  to  de- 
preciate. I  have  not  attained  any  lofty  peak  of  mag- 
nanimity, nor  would  I  trust  beforehand  in  my  capa- 
bility of  meeting  a  severe  demand  for  moral  heroism. 
But  that  I  have  at  least  succeeded  in  establishino^  a 
habit  of  mind  which  keeps  watch  against  my  self- 
partiality,  and  promotes  a  fair  consideration  of  what 
touches  the  feelings  or  the  fortunes  of  my  neighbors, 
seems  to  be  proved  by  the  ready  confidence  with  which 
men  and  women  appeal  to  my  interest  in  their  expe- 
rience. It  is  gratifying  to  one  who  would  above  all 
things  avoid  the  insanity  of  fancying  himself  a  more 
momentous  or  touching  object  than  he  really  is,  to  find 
that  nobody  expects  from  him  the  least  sign  of  such 
mental  aberration,  and  that  he  is  evidently  held  capa- 
ble of  listening  to  all  kinds  of  personal  outpouring 
without  the  least  disposition  to  become  communicative 
in  the  same  way.  This  confirmation  of  the  hope  that 
my  bearing  is  not  that  of  the  self-flattering  lunatic  is 
given  me  in  ample  measure.  My  acquaintances  tell 
me  unreservedly  of  their  triumphs  and  their  piques; 
explain  their  purposes  at  length,  and  reassure  me  with 


LOOKING   INWARD.  17 

cheerfulness  as  to  their  chances  of  success ;  insist  on 
their  theories,  and  accept  me  as  a  dummy  with  .whom 
tliey  rehearse  their  side  of  future  discussions ;  unwind 
their  coiled-up  griefs  in  relation  to  their  husbands,  or 
recite  to  me  examples  of  feminine  incomprehensible- 
ness  as  typified  in  their  wives ;  mention  frequently  the 
fair  api3lause  which  their  merits  have  wrung  from 
some  persons,  and  the  attacks  to  which  certain  oblique 
motives  have  stimulated  others.  At  the  time  when  I 
^vas  less  free  from  superstition  about  my  own  power 
of  charming,  I  occasionally,  in  the  glow  of  sympathy 
which  embraced  me  and  my  confiding  friend  on  the 
subject  of  his  satisfaction  or  resentment,  was  urged  to 
hint  at  a  corresponding  experience  in  my  own  case; 
but  the  signs  of  a  rapidly  lowering  pulse  and  spreading 
nervous  depression  in  my  previously  vivacious  interloc- 
utor warned  me  that  I  was  acting  on  that  dano-erous 
misreading, "  Do  as  you  are  done  by."  Recalling  the 
true  version  of  the  golden  rule,  I  could  not  wish  that 
others  should  lower  my  spirits  as  I  was  lowering  my 
friend's.  After  several  times  obtaininei:  the  same  re- 
suit  from  a  like  experiment  in  which  all  the  circum- 
stances were  varied  except  ray  own  personality,  I  took 
it  as  an  established  inference  that  these  fitful  siens  of  a 
lingering  belief  in  my  own  importance  were  generally 
felt  to  be  abnormal,  and  were  something  short  of  that 
sanity  which  I  aimed  to  secure.  Clearness  on  this 
point  is  not  without  its  gratifications,  as  I  have  said. 
While  my  desire  to  explain  myself  in  private  ears  has 
been  quelled,  the   habit  of  getting  interested  In  the 


18  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

experience  of  others  has  been  continnally  gathering 
strength,  and  I  am  really  at  the  point  of  finding  that 
this  world  wonld  be  worth  living  in  withont  any  lot  of 
one's  own.  Is  it  not  possible  for  me  to  enjoy  the  scen- 
ery of  the  earth  withont  saying  to  myself,  I  have  a  cab- 
bage-garden in  it?  But  this  sounds  like  the  lunacy  of 
fancying  one's  self  everybody  else,  and  being  unable 
to  play  one's  own  part  decently — another  form  of  the 
disloyal  attempt  to  be  independent  of  the  common  lot, 
and  to  live  without  a  sharing  of  pain. 

Perhaps  I  have  made  self-betrayals  enough  already 
to  show  that  I  have  not  arrived  at  that  non-hnraan  in- 
dependence. My  conversational  reticences  about  my- 
self turn  into  garruloiisness  on  paper — as  the  sea-lion 
plunges  and  swims  the  more  energetically  because  his 
limbs  are  of  a  sort  to  make  him  shambling  on  land. 
The  act  of  writing,  in  spite  of  past  experience,  brings 
with  it  the  vague,  delightful  illusion  of  an  audience 
nearer  to  my  idiom  than  the  Cherokees,  and  more  nu- 
merous than  the  visionary  One  for  whom  many  authors 
have  declared  themselves  willing  to  go  through  the 
pleasing  punishment  of  publication.  My  illusion  is  of 
a  more  liberal  kind,  and  I  imagine  a  far-off,  haz}',  mul- 
titudinous assemblage,  as  in  a  picture  of  Paradise,  mak- 
ing an  approving  chorus  to  the  sentences  and  para- 
graphs of  which  I  myself  particularly  enjoy  the  writ- 
ing. The  haze  is  a  necessary  condition.  If  any  physi- 
ognomy becomes  distinct  in  the  foreground,  it  is  fatal. 
The  countenance  is  sure  to  be  one  bent  on  discounte- 
nancing my  innocent  intentions :  it  is  pale-eyed,  inca- 


LOOKING   INWARD.  19 

pable  of  being  amused  when  I  am  amused  or  indig- 
nant at  what  makes  me  indignant;  it  stares  at  my  pre- 
sumption, pities  my  ignorance,  or  is  manifestly  prepar- 
ing to  expose  the  various  instances  in  which  I  uncon- 
sciously disgrace  myself.     I  shudder  at  this  too  corpo- 
real auditor,  and  turn  toward  another  point  of  the  com- 
pass where  the  haze  is  unbroken.     Why  should  I  not 
indulge  tliis  remaining  illusion,  since  I  do  not  take  my 
approving  choral  paradise  as  a  warrant  for  setting  the 
press  to  work  again  and  making  some  thousand  sheets 
of  superior  paper  unsalable?     I  leave  my  manuscripts 
to  a  judgment  outside  my  imagination,  but  I  will  not 
ask  to  hear  it,  or  request  ray  friend  to  pronounce,  be- 
fore I  have  been  buried  decently,  what  he  really  thinks 
of  my  parts,  and  to  state  candidly  whether  my  papers 
would  be  most  usefully  applied  in  lighting  the  cheer- 
ful domestic  fire.     It  is  too  probable  that  he  will  be 
exasperated  at  the  trouble  I  have  given  him  of  reading 
them;  but  the  consequent  clearness  and  vivacity  with 
which  he  could  demonstrate  to  me  that  the  fault  of  my 
manuscripts,  as  of  my  one  published  work,  is  simply 
flatness,  and  not  that  surpassing  subtilty  which  is  the 
preferable  ground  of  popular  neglect  —  this  verdict, 
however  instructively  expressed,  is  a  portion  of  earthly 
discipline  of  which  I  will  not  beseech  my  friend  to  be 
the  instrument.     Other  persons,  I  am  aware,  have  not 
the  same  cowardly  shrinking  from  a  candid  opinion  of 
their  performances,  and  are  even  importunately  eager 
for  it ;  but  I  have  convinced  myself  in  numerous  cases 
that  such.exposers  of  their  own  back  to  the  smiter  were 


20  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

of  too  hopeful  a  disposition  to  believe  in  the  scourge, 
and  really  trusted  in  a  pleasant  anointing,  an  outpour- 
ing of  balm  Avithout  any  previous  wounds.  I  am  of  a 
less  trusting  disposition,  and  will  only  ask  my  friend  to 
use  his  judgment  in  insm*ing  me  against  posthumous 
mistake. 

Thus  I  make  myself  a  charter  to  write,  and  keep  the 
pleasing,  inspiring  illusion  of  being  listened  to,  though 
I  may  sometimes  write  about  myself.  "What  I  have  al- 
ready said,  on  this  too  familiar  theme  has  been  meant 
only  as  a  preface,  to  show  that  in  noting  the  weakness- 
es of  my  acquaintances  I  am  conscious  of  my  fellow- 
ship with  them.  That  a  gratified  sense  of  superiority 
is  at  the  root  of  barbarous  laughter  may  be  at  least 
half  the  truth.  But  there  is  a  loving  laughter  in  which 
the  only  recognized  superiority  is  that  of  the  ideal  self, 
the  God  within,  holding  the  mirror  and  the  scourge  for 
our  own  pettiness  as  well  as  our  neighbors'. 


LOOKING  BACKWARD.  21 


n. 

LOOKING  BACKWAKD. 

Most  of  us  who  have  had  decent  parents  would 
shrink  from  wishing  that  our  father  and  mother  had 
been  somebody  else  whom  we  never  knew;  yet  it  is 
held  no  impiety — rather,  a  graceful  mark  of  instruction 
— for  a  man  to  wail  that  he  was  not  the  son  of  another 
age  and  another  nation,  of  which  also  he  knows  noth- 
ing except  through  the  easy  process  of  an  imperfect 
imagination  and  a  flattering  fancy. 

But  the  period  thus  looked  back  on  with  a  purely 
admiring  regret,  as  perfect  enough  to  suit  a  superior 
mind,  is  always  a  long  way  off ;  the  desirable  contem- 
poraries are  hardly  nearer  than  Leonardo  da  Yinci, 
most  likely  they  are  the  fellow-citizens  of  Pericles,  or, 
best  of  all,  of  the  ^olic  lyrists  whose  sparse  remains 
suggest  a  comfortable  contrast  with  our  redundance. 
No  impassioned  personage  wishes  he  had  been  born 
in  the  age  of  Pitt,  that  his  ardent  youth  might  have 
eaten  the  dearest  bread,  dressed  itself  with  the  longest 
coat-tails  and  the  shortest  waist,  or  heard  the  loudest 
grumbling  at  the  heaviest  war-taxes ;  and  it  would  be 
really  something  original  in  polished  verse  if  one  of 
our  young  writers  declared  he  would  gladly  be  turned 
eighty -five  that  he   might  have  known   the  jo}'  and 


22  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

pride  of  being  an  Englishman  when  there  were  fewer 
reforms  and  plenty  of  highwaymen,  fewer  discoveries 
and  more  faces  pitted  with  the  small-pox,  when  laws 
were  made  to  keep  up  the  price  of  corn,  and  the  trou- 
blesome Irish  were  more  miserable.  Three-quarters 
of  a  century  ago  is  not  a  distance  that  lends  much 
enchantment  to  the  view.  "We  are  familiar  with  the 
average  men  of  that  period,  and  are  still  consciously 
encumbered  with  its  bad  contrivances  and  mistaken 
acts.  The  lords  and  gentlemen  painted  by  young 
Lawrence  talked  and  wrote  their  nonsense  in  a  tonsrue 
we  thoroughly  understand ;  hence  their  times  are  not 
much  flattered,  not  much  glorified,  by  the  yearnings 
of  that  modern  sect  of  Flagellants  who  make  a  ritual 
of  lashing — not  themselves,  but  all  their  neighbors. 
To  me,  however,  that  paternal  time,  the  time  of  my 
father's  youth,  never  seemed  prosaic,  for  it  came  to  my 
imagination  first  through  his  memories,  which  made 
a  wondrous  perspective  to  my  little  daily  world  of  dis- 
covery. And,  for  my  part,  I  can  call  no  age  absolutely 
unpoetic :  how  should  it  be  so,  since  there  are  always 
children  to  whom  the  acorns  and  the  swallow's  eofffs 
are  a  wonder,  always  those  human  passions  and  fatali- 
ties through  which  Garrick  as  Ilaralet  in  bob-wig  and 
knee-breeches  moved  his  audience  more  than  some 
have  since  done  in  velvet  tunic  and  plume  ?  But 
every  age  since  the  golden  may  be  made  more  or  less 
prosaic  by  minds  that  attend  only  to  its  vulgar  and 
sordid  elements,  of  w^hich  there  was  always  an  abun- 
dance even  in  Greece  and  Italy,  the  favorite  realms  of 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  23 

the  retrospective  optimists.  To  be  quite  fair  toward 
the  ages,  a  little  ugliness  as  well  as  beauty  must  be 
allowed  to  each  of  them,  a  little  implicit  poetry  even 
to  those  which  echoed  loudest  with  servile,  pompous, 
and  trivial  prose. 

Such  impartiality  is  not  in  vogue  at  present.  If  we 
acknowledge  our  obligation  to  the  ancients,  it  is  hardly 
to  be  done  without  some  flouting  of  our  contempora- 
ries, w^ho,  with  all  their  faults,  must  be  allowed  the 
merit  of  keeping  the  world  habitable  for  the  refined 
eulogists  of  the  blameless  past.  One  wonders  whether 
the  remarkable  originators  who  first  had  the  notion 
of  digging  wells,  or  of  churning  for  butter,  and  who 
were  certainly  very  useful  to  their  own  time  as  well 
as  ours,  were  left  quite  free  from  invidious  compari- 
son with  predecessors  who  let  the  water  and  the 
milk  alone,  or  whether  some  rhetorical  nomad,  as  he 
stretched  himself  on  the  grass  with  a  good  appetite 
for  contemporary  butter,  became  loud  on  the  virtue  of 
ancestors  who  were  uncorrupted  by  the  produce  of  the 
cow ;  nay,  whether  in  a  high  flight  of  imaginative  self- 
sacrifice  (after  swallowing  the  butter)  he  even  wislied 
himself  earlier  bom  and  already  eaten  for  the  suste- 
nance of  a  o;eneration  more  naive  than  his  own. 

I  have  often  had  the  fool's  hectic  of  wishing  about 
the  unalterable,  but  with  me  that  useless  exercise  has 
turned  chiefly  on  the  conception  of  a  different  self, 
and  not,  as  it  usually  does  in  literature,  on  the  advan- 
tage of  having  been  born  in  a  different  age,  and  more 
especially  in  one  where  life  is  imagined  to  have  been 


24  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

altogether  majestic  and  graceful.  With  my  present 
abilities,  external  proportions,  and  generally  small  pro- 
vision for  ecstatic  enjoyment,  where  is  the  ground  for 
confidence  that  I  should  have  had  a  preferable  career 
in  such  an  epoch  of  society  'i  An  age  in  which  every 
department  has  its  awkward-squad  seems  in  my  mind's 
eye  to  suit  me  better.  I  might  have  wandered  by  the 
Sti'ymon  under  Philip  and  Alexander  without  throw- 
ing any  new  light  on  method  or  organizing  the  sum  of 
human  knowledge;  on  the  other  hand,  I  might  have 
objected  to  Aristotle  as  too  much  of  a  systematizer,  and 
have  preferred  the  freedom  of  a  little  self-contradic- 
tion as  offering  more  chances  of  truth.  I  gather,  too, 
from  the  undeniable  testimony  of  his  disciple  Theo- 
phrastus  that  there  were  bores,  ill-bred  persons,  and  de- 
tractors even  in  Athens,  of  species  remarkably  corre- 
sponding to  the  English,  and  not  yet  made  endurable 
by  being  classic ;  and  altogether,  with  my  present  fas- 
tidious nostril,  I  feel  that  I  am  the  better  off  for  pos- 
sessing Athenian  life  solely  as  an  inodorous  fragment 
of  antiquity.  As  to  Sappho's  Mitylene,  while  I  am 
convinced  that  the  Lesbian  capital  held  some  plain 
men  of  middle  stature  and  slow  conversational  powers, 
the  addition  of  myself  to  their  number,  though  clad  in 
the  majestic  folds  of  the  himation  and  without  cravat, 
would  hardl}^  have  made  a  sensation  among  the  accom- 
plished fair  ones  who  were  so  precise  in  adjusting  their 
own  drapery  about  their  delicate  ankles.  Whereas,  by 
being  another  sort  of  person  in  the  present  age,  I  might 
have  given  it  some  needful  theoretic  clue ;  or  I  might 


LOOKING  BACKWARD.  25 

liave  poured  forth  poetic  strains  which  would  have  an- 
ticipated theory,  and  seemed  a  voice  from  "  the  pro- 
phetic soul  of  the  wude  world  dreaming  of  things  to 
come ;"  or  I  might  have  been  one  of  those  benignant 
lovely  souls  who,  without  astonishing  the  public  and 
posterity,  make  a  happy  difference  in  the  lives  close 
around  them,  and  in  this  way  lift  the  average  of  earth- 
ly joy :  in  come  form  or  other  I  might  have  been  so 
filled  from  the  store  of  universal  existence  that  I  should 
have  been  freed  from  that  empty  wishing  which  is  like 
a  child's  cry  to  be  inside  a  golden  cloud,  its  imagina- 
tion being  too  ignorant  to  figure  the  lining  of  dimness 
and  damp. 

On  the  whole,  though  there  is  some  rash  boasting 
about  enlightenment,  and  an  occasional  insistance  on 
an  originality  which  is  that  of  the  present  year's  corn- 
crop,  we  seem  too  much  disposed  to  indulge,  and  to  call 
by  complimentary  names,  a  greater  charity  for  other 
portions  of  the  human  race  than  for  our  contempora- 
ries. All  reverence  and  gratitude  for  the  worthy  Dead 
on  whose  labors  we  have  entered,  all  care  for  the  fut- 
ure generations  whose  lot  we  are  prej^aring ;  but  some 
affection  and  fairness  for  those  who  are  doino;  the  actu- 
al  work  of  the  world,  some  attempt  to  regard  them  with 
the  same  freedom  from  ill-temper,  whether  on  private 
or  public  grounds,  as  we  may  hope  will  be  felt  by  those 
who  will  call  ns  ancient !  Otherwise,  the  looking  be- 
fore and  after,  which  is  our  grand  human  privilege,  is 
in  danger  of  turning  to  a  sort  of  other-worldliness, 

breeding  a  more  illogical  indifference  or  bitterness  than 

o 


26  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

was  ever  bred  by  the  ascetic's  contemplation  of  heaven. 
Except  on  the  ground  of  a  primitive  golden  age  and 
continuous  degeneracy,  I  see  no  rational  footing  for 
scorning  the  whole  present  population  of  the  globe,  un- 
less I  scorn  every  previous  generation  from  whom  they 
have  inherited  their  diseases  of  mind  and  body,  and  by 
consequence  scorn  my  own  scorn,  which  is  equally  an 
inheritance  of  mixed  ideas  and  feelings  concocted  for 
me  in  the  boiling  caldron  of  this  universally  contemp- 
tible life,  and  so  on — scorning  to  infinity.  This  may 
represent  some  actual  states  of  mind,  for  it  is  a  narrow 
prejudice  of  mathematicians  to  suppose  that  ways  of 
thinking  are  to  be  driven  out  of  the  field  by  being  re- 
duced to  an  absurdity.  The  Absurd  is  taken  as  an  ex- 
cellent juicy  thistle  by  many  constitutions. 

Reflections  of  this  sort  have  gradually  determined 
me  not  to  grumble  at  tlie  age  in  which  I  happen  to 
have  been  born  —  a  natural  tendency  certainly  older 
than  Hesiod.  Many  ancient  beautif  :d  things  are  lost, 
many  ugly  modern  things  have  arisen ;  but  invert  the 
proposition,  and  it  is  equally  true.  I  at  least  am  a 
modern  with  some  interest  in  advocating  tolerance; 
and  notwithstandino;  an  inborn  beo-ujlement  which  car- 
ries  my  affection  and  regret  continually  into  an  imag- 
ined past,  I  am  aware  that  I  must  lose  all  sense  of  mor- 
al proportion  unless  I  keep  alive  a  stronger  attachment 
to  what  is  near,  and  a  power  of  admiring  what  I  best 
know  and  understand.  Hence  this  question  of  wishing 
to  be  rid  of  one's  contemporaries  associates  itself  with 
my  filial  feeling,  and  calls  up  the  thought  that  I  might 


LOOKING    BACKWARD.  27 

as  justifiably  wish  that  I  had  had  other  parents  than 
those  whose  loving  tones  are  my  earliest  memory,  and 
whose  last  parting  first  taught  me  the  meaning  of  death. 
I  feel  bound  to  quell  such  a  wish  as  blasphemy. 

Besides,  there  are  other  reasons  why  I  am  contented 
that  my  father  was  a  country  parson,  born  much  about 
the  same  time  as  Scott  and  Wordsworth ;  notwith- 
standing certain  qualms  I  have  felt  at  the  fact  that  the 
property  on  which  I  am  living  was  saved  out  of  tithe 
before  the  period  of  commutation,  and  without  the 
provisional  transfiguration  into  a  modus.  It  has  some- 
times occurred  to  me  when  I  have  been  taking  a  slice 
of  excellent  ham  that,  from  a  too  tenable  point  of 
view,  1  was  breakfasting  on  a  small  squealing  black 
pig  which,  more  than  half  a  century  ago,  was  the  un- 
willing representative  of  spiritual  advantages  not  oth- 
erwise  acknowledged  by  the  grudging  farmer  or  dairy- 
man who  parted  with  him.  One  enters  on  a  fearful 
labyrinth  in  tracing  compound  interest  backward,  and 
such  complications  of  thought  have  reduced  the  flavor 
of  the  ham  ;  but  since  I  have  nevertheless  eaten  it,  the 
chief  effect  has  been  to  moderate  the  severity  of  my 
radicalism  (which  was  not  part  of  my  paternal  inherit- 
ance) and  to  raise  the  assuaging  reflection,  that  if  the 
pig  and  the  parishioner  had  been  intelligent  enough 
to  anticipate  my  historical  point  of  view,  they  would 
have  seen  themselves  and  the  rector  in  a  light  that 
would  have  made  tithe  voluntary.  Notwithstanding 
such  drawbacks,  I  am  rather  fond  of  the  mental  furni- 
ture I  got  by  having  a  father  who  was  well  acquainted 


28  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

with  all  ranks  of  his  neighbors,  and  am  thankful  that 
he  was  not  one  of  those  aristocratic  clergymen  who 
conld  not  have  sat  down  to  a  meal  with  any  family  in 
the  parish  except  my  lord's  —  still  more,  that  he  was 
not  an  earl  or  a  marquis.  A  chief  misfortune  of  high 
birth  is  that  it  usually  shuts  a  man  out  from  the  large 
sympathetic  knowledge  of  human  experience  which 
comes  from  contact  with  various  classes  on  their  own 
level,  and  in  my  father's  time  that  entail  of  social  igno- 
rance had  not  been  disturbed  as  we  see  it  now.  To 
look  always  from  overhead  at  tlie  crowd  of  one's  fel- 
low-men must  be  in  many  ways  incapacitating,  even 
%vith  the  best  will  and  iutellio-ence.  Tlie  serious  blun- 
ders  it  must  lead  to  in  the  effort  to  manage  them  for 
their  good,  one  may  see  cleai'ly  by  tlie  mistaken  ways 
people  take  of  flattering  and  enticing  those  whose  asso- 
ciations are  nnlike  tlieir  own.  Hence  I  have  always 
thought  that  the  most  fortunate  Britons  are  those 
whose  experience  has  given  tliem  a  practical  share  in 
many  aspects  of  the  national  lot,  who  have  lived  long 
among  the  mixed  commonalty,  roughing  it  with  them 
under  difficulties,  knowing  liow  their  food  tastes  to 
them,  and  getting  acquainted  with  their  notions  and 
motives,  not  by  inference  from  traditional  types  in  lit- 
erature or  from  philosophical  theories,  but  from  daily 
fellowship  and  observation.  Of  course  such  experi- 
ence is  apt  to  get  antiquated,  and  my  father  might  find 
himself  mucli  at  a  loss  among  a  mixed  rural  popula- 
tion of  the  present  day ;  but  he  knew  very  well  what 
could  be  wisely  expected  from  the  miners,  the  weavers^, 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  29 

the  field-laborers,  and  farmers  of  his  own  tune — yes, 
and  from  the  aristocracy ;  for  he  had  been  brought  up 
in  close  contact  with  them,  and  had  been  companion 
to  a  young  nobleman  who  was  deaf  and  dumb.  "A 
clero;vman,  lad,"  he  used  to  sav  to  me,  "  should  feel  in 
himself  a  bit  of  every  class ;"  and  this  theory  had  a 
felicitous  agreement  with  his  inclination  and  practice, 
which  certainly  answered  in  making  him  beloved  by 
his  parishioners.  They  grumbled  at  their  obligations 
toward  him  ;  but  what  then  ?  It  was  natural  to  grum- 
ble at  any  demand  for  payment,  tithe  included,  but 
also  natural  for  a  rector  to  desire  his  tithe  and  look 
well  after  the  levjn'ng.  A  Christian  pastor  who  did 
not  mind  about  his  money  was  not  an  ideal  prevalent 
among  the  rural  minds  of  fat  central  England,  and 
might  have  seemed  to  introduce  a  dangerous  laxity  of 
supposition  about  Christian  laymen  who  happened  to 
be  creditors.  My  father  was  none  the  less  beloved  be- 
cause he  was  understood  to  be  of  a  saving  disposition, 
and  how  could  he  save  without  getting  his  tithe? 
The  sight  of  him  was  not  unwelcome  at  any  door,  and 
he  was  remarkable  among  the  clergy  of  his  district  for 
having  no  lasting  feud  with  rich  or  poor  in  his  parish. 
I  profited  by  his  popularity;  and  for  months  after  my 
mother's  death,  when  I  was  a  little  fellow  of  nine,  I 
was  taken  care  of  first  at  one  homestead,  and  then  at 
another — a  variety  which  I  enjoyed  much  more  than 
my  stay  at  the  Hall,  where  there  was  a  tutor.  Af- 
terward, for  several  years,  I  was  my  father's  constant 
companion  in  his  out-door  business,  riding  by  his  side 


80  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

on  my  little  pony  and  listening  to  the  lengthy  dialogues 
he  held  with  Darby  or  Joan,  the  one  on  the  road  or  in 
the  fields,  the  other  outside  or  inside  her  door.  In 
my  earliest  remembrance  of  him  his  hair  was  already 
gray,  for  I  was  his  youngest  as  well  as  his  only  surviv- 
ing child  ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  advanced  age  was 
appropriate  to  a  father,  as  indeed  in  all  respects  I  con- 
sidered him  a  parent  so  much  to  my  honor,  that  the 
mention  of  my  relationship  to  him  was  likely  to  secure 
me  regard  among  those  to  whom  I  was  otherwise  a 
stranger — my  father's  stories  from  his  life  including  so 
many  names  of  distant  persons  that  my  imagination 
placed  no  limit  to  his  acquaintanceship.  He  was  a 
pithy  talker,  and  his  sermons  bore  marks  of  his  own 
composition.  It  is  true,  they  must  have  been  already 
old  when  I  began  to  listen  to  them,  and  they  were  no 
more  than  a  year's  supply,  so  that  they  recurred  as  reg- 
ularly as  the  Collects.  But  though  this  system  has 
been  much  ridiculed,  I  am  prepared  to  defend  it  as 
equally  sound  M'itli  tliat  of  a  liturgy;  and  even  if  my 
researches  had  shown  me  that  some  of  my  father's 
yearly  sei-mons  had  been  copied  out  from  the  works  of 
elder  divines,  this  would  only  have  been  another  proof 
of  his  good  judgment.  One  may  prefer  fresh  eggs 
though  laid  by  a  fowl  of  the  meanest  understanding, 
but  why  fresh  sermons  ? 

Nor  can  I  be  sorry,  though  myself  given  to  medi- 
tative if  not  active  innovation,  that  my  father  was  a 
Tory  who  had  not  exactly  a  dislike  to  innovators  and 
dissenters,  but  a  slight  opinion  of  them  as  persons  of 


LOOKING  BACKWARD.  31 

ill-founded  self-confidence;  whence  my  young  ears 
gathered  many  details  concerning  those  who  might 
perhaps  have  called  themselves  the  more  advanced 
thinkers  in  our  nearest  market-town,  tending  to  con- 
vince me  that  their  characters  were  quite  as  mixed  as 
those  of  the  thinkers  behind  them.  This  circumstance 
of  my  rearing  has  at  least  delivered  me  from  certain 
mistakes  of  classification  which  I  observe  in  many 
of  my  superiors,  who  have  apparently  no  affectionate 
memories  of  a  goodness  mingled  with  what  they  now 
regai'd  as  outworn  prejudices.  Indeed,  my  philosoph- 
ical notions,  snch  as  they  are,  continually  carry  me 
back  to  the  time  when  the  fitful  gleams  of  a  spring 
day  used  to  show  me  my  own  shadow  as  that  of  a 
small  boy  on  a  small  pony,  riding  by  the  side  of  a 
larger  cob- mounted  shadow  over  the  breezy  uplands 
which  we  used  to  dignify  with  the  name  of  hills,  or 
along  by-roads  with  broad  grassy  borders  and  hedge- 
rows reckless  of  utility,  on  our  way  to  outlying  ham- 
lets, whose  groups  of  inhabitants  were  as  distinctive  to 
my  imagination  as  if  they  had  belonged  to  different 
regions  of  the  globe.  From  these  we,  sometimes  rode 
onward  to  the  adjoining  parish,  where  also  my  father 
ofilciated,  for  he  was  a  pluralist,  but — I  hasten  to  add 
— on  the  smallest  scale  ;  for  his  one  extra  living  was 
a  poor  vicarage,  with  hardly  fifty  parishioners,  and  its 
church  would  have  made  a  very  shabby  barn,  the  gray 
worm-eaten  wood  of  its  pews  and  pulpit,  with  their 
doors  only  half  hanging  on  the  hinges,  being  exactly 
the  color  of  a  lean  mouse  which  I  once  observed  as  an 


82  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

interesting  member  of  the  scant  congregation,  and  con- 
jectured to  be  the  identical  church  mouse  I  had  heard 
referred  to  as  an  example  of  extreme  poverty ;  for  I 
was  a  precocious  boy,  and  often  reasoned  after  the 
fashion  of  my  elders,  arguing  that  "  Jack  and  Jill " 
■were  real  personages  in  our  parish,  and  that  if  I  could 
identify  "Jack"  I  should  find  on  him  the  marks  of  a 
broken  crown. 

Sometimes  when  I  am  in  a  crowded  London  draw- 
ing-room (for  I  am  a  town-bird  now,  acquainted  with 
smoky  eaves,  and  tasting  Nature  in  the  parks),  quick 
flights  of  memory  take  me  back  among  my  father's 
parishioners  while  I  am  still  conscious  of  elbowing 
men  who  wear  the  same  evening  uniform  as  myself ; 
and  I  presently  begin  to  wonder  what  varieties  of  his- 
tory lie  hidden  under  this  monotony  of  aspect.  Some 
of  them,  perhaps,  belong  to  families  with  many  quar- 
terings,  but  how  many  "  quarterings "  of  diverse  con- 
tact with  their  fellow-countrymen  enter  into  their 
qualifications  to  be  parliamentary  leaders,  professors 
of  social  science,  or  journalistic  guides  of  the  popular 
mind  ?  Not  that  I  feel  m^'self  a  person  made  compe- 
tent by  experience  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  argue  that  since 
an  observation  of  different  ranks  has  still  left  me  prac- 
tically a  poor  creature,  what  must  be  the  condition  of 
those  who  object  even  to  read  about  the  life  of  other 
British  classes  than  their  own  ?  But  of  my  elbowin^r 
neighbors  with  their  crush  hats  I  usually  imagine  that 
tlic  most  distinguished  among  them  have  probably 
had  a  far  more  instructive  journey  into  manhood  than 


LOOKING  BACKWARD.  33 

mine.  Here,  perhaps,  is  a  thouglit-vvorn  physiognomy, 
seeming  at  the  present  moment  to  be  classed  as  a  mere 
species  of  white  cravat  and  swallow-tail,  which  may 
once,  like  Faraday's,  have  shown  itself  in  curiously  du- 
bious embryonic  form  leaning  against  a  cottage  lintel 
in  small  corduroys,  and  hungrily  eating  a  bit  of  brown 
bread  and  bacon ;  there  is  a  pair  of  eyes,  now  too 
much  wearied  by  the  gas -light  of  public  assemblies, 
that  once  perhaps  learned  to  read  their  native  England 
through  the  same  alphabet  as  mine  —  not  within  the 
boundaries  of  an  ancestral  park,  never  even  being 
driven  through  the  county  town  five  miles  off,  but — 
among  the  midland  villages  and  markets,  along  by  the 
tree-studded  hedge-rows,  and  where  the  heavy  barges 
seem  in  the  distance  to  float  mysteriously  among  the 
rushes  and  the  feathered  grass.  Our  vision,  both  real 
and  ideal,  has  since  then  been  filled  with  far  otlier 
scenes :  among  eternal  snows  and  stupendous  sun- 
scorched  monuments  of  departed  empires ;  within  the 
scent  of  the  long  orange-groves ;  and  where  the  tem- 
ple of  N'eptune  looks  out  over  the  siren-haunted  sea. 
But  my  eyes  at  least  have  kept  their  early  affectionate 
joy  in  our  native  landscape,  which  is  one  deep  root  of 
our  national  life  and  language. 

And  I  often  smile  at  my  consciousness  that  certain 
conservative  prepossessions  have  mingled  themselves 
for  me  with  the  influences  of  our  midland  scenery, 
from  the  tops  of  the  elms  down  to  the  buttercups  and 
tlie  little  waA'-side  vetches.  Naturally  enough.  That 
part  of  my  father's  prime  to  which  he  oftenest  referred 

2* 


84  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

had  fallen  on  tlie  days  when  the  great  wave  of  political 
enthusiasm  and  belief  in  a  speedy  regeneration  of  all 
things  had  ebbed,  and  the  supposed  millennial  initia- 
tive of  France  was  turning  into  a  Napoleonic  empire, 
the  sway  of  an  Attila  with  a  mouth  speaking  proud 
things  in  a  jargon  half  revolutionary,  half  Koman. 
Men  were  beginning  to  shrink  timidly  from  the  mem- 
ory of  their  own  words  and  fi-om  the  recognition  of 
the  fellowships  they  had  formed  ten  years  before ;  and 
even  reforming  Englishmen,  for  the  most  part,  were 
willing  to  wait  for  the  perfection  of  society,  if  only 
they  could  keep  their  throats  perfect  and  help  to  drive 
away  the  chief  enemy  of  mankind  from  our  coasts. 
To  my  father's  mind  the  noisy  teachers  of  revolution- 
ary doctrine  w'ere,  to  speak  mildly,  a  variable  mixture 
of  the  fool  and  the  scoundrel;  the  w^elfare  of  the 
nation  lay  in  a  strong  government  which  could  main- 
tain order;  and  I  was  accustomed  to  hear  him  utter 
the  word  "  government "  in  a  tone  that  charged  it  with 
awe,  and  made  it  part  of  my  effective  religion,  in  con- 
trast with  the  word  "  rebel,"  which  seemed  to  carry 
the  stamp  of  evil  in  its  syllables,  and,  lit  by  the  fact 
that  Satan  was  the  first  rebel,  made  an  argument  dis- 
pensing with  more  detailed  inquiry.  I  gathered  that 
our  national  troubles  in  the  first  two  decades  of  this 
century  were  not  at  all  due  to  the  mistakes  of  our 
administrators,  and  that  England,  with  its  fine  Church 
and  Constitution,  would  have  been  exceedingly  well 
off  if  every  British  subject  had  been  thankful  for  what 
was  provided,  and  had  minded  his  own  business — if, 


LOOKING   BACKWARD,  35 

for  example,  numerous  Catholics  of  that  period  had 
been  aware  how  very  modest  they  ought  to  be,  consid- 
ering they  wei-e  Irish,  The  times,  I  heard,  had  often 
been  bad,  but  I  was  constantly  hearing  pf  "  bad  times" 
as  a  name  for  actual  evenings  and  mornings  when  the 
godfathers  M'ho  gave  them  that  name  appeared  to  me 
remai'kably  comfortable.  Altogether,  my  father's  Eng- 
land seemed  to  me  lovable,  laudable,  full  of  good  men, 
and  having  good  rulers,  froui  Mr.  Pitt  on  to  the  Duke 
of  Wellington,  until  he  was  for  emancipating  the 
Catholics;  and  it  M'as  so  far  from  prosaic  to  me  that 
I  looked  into  it  for  a  more  exciting  romance  than  such 
as  I  could  find  in  my  own  adventures,  which  consisted 
mainly  in  fancied  crises  calling  for  the  resolute  wield- 
ing of  domestic  swords  and  iire-ai-ms  against  unap- 
parent  robbers,  rioters,  and  invaders  who,  it  seemed, 
in  my  father's  prime,  had  more  chance  of  being  real. 
The  morris-dancers  had  not  tlien  dwindled  to  a  ragged 
and  almost  vanished  rout  (owing  the  traditional  name 
probably  to  the  historic  fancy  of  our  superannuated 
groom) ;  also,  the  good  old  king  was  alive  and  well, 
which  made  all  the  more  difference  because  I  had  no 
notion  what  he  was  and  did — only  understanding  in 
general  that  if  he  had  been  still  on  the  throne  he 
would  have  hindered  everytiiing  that  wise  persons 
thouo-ht  undesirable. 

Certainly  that  elder  England,  with  its  frankly  sal- 
ai)le  boroughs,  so  clieap  compared  with  the  seats  ob- 
tained under  the  i-eformed  method,  and  its  boroughs 
kindly  presented  by  noblemen  desirous  to  encourage 


3G  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

gratitude,  its  prisons  with  a  miscellaneous  company  of 
felons  and  maniacs,  and,  without  any  supply  of  water, 
its  bloated,  idle  charities,  its  non-resident  jovial  clergy, 
its  militia-balloting,  and,  above  all,  its  blank  ignorance 
of  what  we,  its  posterity,  should  be  thinking  of  it,  has 
great  differences  from  the  England  of  to-day.  Yet  we 
discern  a  strong  family  likeness.  Is  there  any  coun- 
try which  shows  at  once  as  much  stability  and  as  much 
susceptibility  to  change  as  ours?  Our  national  life 
is  like  that  scenery  which  I  early  learned  to  love,  not 
subject  to  great  convulsions,  but  easily  showing  more 
or  less  delicate  (sometimes  melancholy)  effects  from 
minor  changes.  Hence  our  midland  plains  have  never 
lost  their  famiHar  expression  and  conservative  spirit 
for  me ;  yet  at  every  other  mile,  since  I  first  looked  on 
them,  some  sign  of  world-wide  change,  some  new  direc- 
tion of  human  labor,  has  wrought  itself  into  what  one 
may  call  the  speech  of  the  landscape — in  contrast  with 
those  grander  and  vaster  regions  of  the  earth  which 
keep  an  indifferent  aspect  in  the  presence  of  men's 
toil  and  devices.  What  does  it  signify  that  a  lilipu- 
tian  train  passes  over  a  viaduct  amidst  the  abysses  of 
the  Apennines,  or  that  a  caravan  laden  with  a  nation's 
offerings  creeps  across  the  unresting  sameness  of  the 
desert,  or  tliat  a  petty  cloud  of  steam  sweeps  for  an 
instant  over  the  face  of  an  Egyptian  colossus  immov- 
ably submitting  to  its  slow  burial  beneath  the  sand? 
But  our  woodlands  and  pastures,  our  hedge -parted 
cornfields  and  meadows,  our  bits  of  high  common 
where  we  used  to  plant  the  wind-mills,  our  quiet  little 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  37 

rivers  here  and  there  fit  to  turn  a  mill-wheel,  our 
villages  along  the  old  coach-roads,  are  all  easily  alter- 
able lineaments  that  seem  to  make  the  face  of  onr 
Mother-land  sympatlietic  with  the  laborious  lives  of 
her  cliildren.  She  does  not  tahe  their  ploughs  and 
wagons  contemptuously,  but  rather  makes  every  hovel 
and  eveiy  sheepfold,  every  railed  bridge  or  fallen  tree- 
trunk,  an  agreeably  noticeable  incident ;  not  a  mere 
speck  in  the  midst  of  unmeasured  vastness,  but  a  piece 
of  our  social  history  in  pictorial  wi-iting. 

Our  rural  tracts  —  where  no  Babel -chimney  scales 
the  heavens  —  are  without  mighty  objects  to  fill  the 
soul  with  the  sense  of  an  outer  world  unconquerably 
aloof  from  our  efforts.  The  wastes  are  play-grounds 
(and  let  us  try  to  keep  them  such  for  the  children's 
children  who  will  inherit  no  other  sort  of  demesne); 
the  gi-asses  and  reeds  nod  to  each  other  over  the  river, 
but  we  have  cut  a  canal  close  by;  the  very  lieiglits 
laugh  with  corn  in  August,  or  lift  the  plongli-tcam 
against  the  sky  in  September.  Then  comes  a  crowd 
of  burly  navvies  with  pickaxes  and  barrows;  and  while 
hardly  a  wrinkle  is  made  in  the  fading  mother's  face 
or  a  new  curve  of  health  in  the  blooming  girl's,  the 
liills  are  cut  through  or  the  breaches  between  them 
spanned,  we  choose  our  level,  and  the  white  steam-pen- 
non flies  along  it. 

But  because  our  land  shows  this  readiness  to  be 
changed,  all  signs  of  permanence  upon  it  raise  a  tender 
attachment  instead  of  awe:  some  of  us,  at  least,  love 
the  scanty  relics  of  our  forests,  and  are  thankful  if  a 


88  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 


bush  is  left  of  the  old  hedge-row.  A  crumbling  bit  of 
wall  where  the  delicate  ivy-leaved  toad-flax  hangs  its 
light  branches,  or  a  bit  of  gray  thatch  with  patches  of 
dark  moss  on  its  shoulder  and  a  troop  of  grass-stems  on 
its  ridge,  is  a  thing  to  visit.  And  then  the  tiled  roof 
of  cottage  and  homestead,  of  the  long  cow-shed  where 
generations  of  the  milky  mothers  have  stood  patiently, 
of  the  broad-shouldered  barns  where  the  old-fashioned 
flail  once  made  resonant  music,  while  the  watch-dog 
barked  at  the  timidly  venturesome  fowls  making  peck- 
ing raids  on  the  outflying  grain — the  roofs  that  have 
looked  out  from  among  the  elms  and  walnut-trees,  or 
beside  the  yearly  group  of  hay  and  corn  stacks,  or  be- 
low the  square  stone  steeple,  gathering-  their  gray  or 
ochre-tinted  lichens  and  their  olive-green  mosses  nnder 
all  ministries — let  us  praise  the  sober  harmonies  they 
give  to  our  landscape,  helping  to  unite  us  pleasantly 
with  the  elder  generations  who  tilled  the  soil  for  us  be- 
fore we  were  born,  and  paid  heavier  and  heavier  taxes, 
with  much  grumbling,  but  without  that  deepest  root  of 
corruption — the  self-indulgent  despair  which  cuts  down 
and  consumes,  and  never  plants. 

But  I  check  myself.  Perhaps  this  England  of  my 
affections  is  half  visionary — a  dream  in  which  things 
arc  connected  according  to  my  well-fed,  lazy  mood, 
and  not  at  all  by  the  multitudinous  links  of  graver, 
sadder  fact,  such  as  belong  everywhere  to  the  story  of 
human  labor.  AVell,  well,  the  illusions  that  began  for 
us  when  we  were  less  acquainted  with  evil  have  not 
lost  their  value  when  we  discern  them  to  be  illusions. 


LOOKING   BACKWARD.  39 

They  feed  the  ideal  Better,  and  in  loving  them  still, 
we  strengthen  the  precious  habit  of  loving  something 
not  visibly,  tangibly  existent,  but  a  spiritual  product  of 
our  visible,  tangible  selves. 

I  cherish  my  childish  loves  —  the  memory  of  that 
warm  little  nest  where  my  affections  were  fledged. 
Since  then  I  have  learned  to  care  for  foreign  countries, 
for  literatures  foreign  and  ancient,  for  the  life  of  conti- 
nental towns  dozing  round  old  cathedrals,  for  the  life 
of  London,  half  sleepless  with  eager  thought  and  strife, 
with  indigestion  or  with  hunger;  and  now  my  con- 
sciousness is  chiefly  of  the  busy,  anxious  metropolitan 
sort.  My  system  responds  sensitively  to  the  London 
weather-signs,  political,  social,  literary;  and  my  bach- 
elor's hearth  is  imbedded  where,  by  much  craning  of 
head  and  neck,  I  can  catch  sight  of  a  sycamore  in  the 
Square  garden :  I  belong  to  the  "  Nation  of  London." 
Why  ?  There  have  been  many  voluntary  exiles  in  the 
world,  and  probably  in  the  very  first  exodus  of  the  pa- 
triarchal Aryans  —  for  I  am  determined  not  to  fetch 
my  examples  from  races  whose  talk  is  of  uncles  and 
no  fathers — some  of  those  who  sallied  forth  went  for 
the  sake  of  a  loved  companionship,  when  they  would 
willingly  have  kept  sight  of  the  familiar  plains,  and  of 
the  hills  to  which  they  had  first  lifted  up  their  eyes. 


40  TUEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


III. 

HOW  WE  ENCOUKAGE  RESEARCH. 

The  serene  and  beneficent  goddess  Truth,  like  other 
deities  whose  disposition  has  been  too  hastily  inferred 
from  that  of  the  men  who  have  invoked  them,  can 
hardly  be  well  pleased  with  much  of  the  worship  paid 
to  her  even  in  this  milder  age,  when  the  stake  and  the 
rack  have  ceased  to  form  part  of  her  ritual.  Some 
cruelties  still  pass  for  service  done  in  her  honor:  no 
thumb -screw  is  used,  no  iron  boot,  no  scorching  of 
flesh;  but  plenty  of  controversial  bruising,  laceration, 
and  even  life-long  maiming.  Less  than  formerly;  but 
so  long  as  this  sort  of  truth-worship  has  the  sanction 
of  a  public  that  can  often  understand  nothing  in  a 
controversy  except  personal  sarcasm  or  slanderous  ridi- 
cule, it  is  likely  to  continue.  The  suffei-ings  of  its 
victims  are  often  as  little  regarded  as  those  of  the 
sacrificial  i)ig  offered  in  old  time,  with  what  we  now 
regard  as  a  sad  miscalculation  of  effects. 

One  such  victim  is  my  old  acquaintance  Merman. 

Twenty  years  ago  Merman  was  a  young  man  of 
promise,  a  conveyancer  with  a  practice  which  had  cer- 
tainly budded,  but,  like  Aaron's  rod,  seemed  not  des- 
tined to  pro(;eed  further  in  that  marvellous  activity. 
Meanwhile  he  occupied  himself  in   miscellaneous  pe- 


HOW   WE   ENCOUKAGE    RESEARCH.  41 

riodical  writing  and  in  a  multifarious  study  of  moral 
and  physical  science.  What  chiefly  attracted  hiiu  in 
all  subjects  were  the  vexed  questions  which  have  the 
advantage  of  not  admitting  the  decisive  proof  or  dis- 
proof that  renders  many  ingenious  arguments  super- 
annuated. Not  that  Merman  had  a  wrangling  dispo- 
sition :  he  put  all  his  doubts,  queries,  and  paradoxes 
deferentially,  contended  without  unpleasant  heat,  and 
only  with  a  sonorous  eagerness  against  the  personality 
of  Homer,  expressed  himself  civilly  though  firmly  on 
the  origin  of  language,  and  had  tact  enough  to  drop 
at  the  right  moment  such  subjects  as  the  ultimate  re- 
duction of  all  the  so-called  elementary  substances,  his 
own  total  scepticism  concerning  Manetho's  chronology, 
or  even  the  relation  between  the  magnetic  condition 
of  the  earth  and  the  outbreak  of  revolutionary  tenden- 
cies. Such  flexibility  was  naturally  much  helped  by 
his  amiable  feeling  toward  woman,  whose  nervous  sys- 
tem, he  was  convinced,  would  not  bear  the  continuous 
strain  of  difiicult  topics;  and  also  by  his  willingness  to 
contribute  a  song  whenever  the  same  desultory  charm- 
er proposed  music.  Indeed,  his  tastes  were  domestic 
enough  to  beguile  him  into  marriage  when  his  re- 
sources were  still  very  moderate  and  partly  uncertain. 
His  friends  wished  that  so  ingenious  and  ao-reeable  a 
fellow  might  have  more  prospei'ity  than  they  ventured 
to  hope  for  him,  their  chief  regret  on  his  account  be- 
ing that  he  did  not  concentrate  his  talent  and  leave  off 
forming  opinions  on  at  least  half  a  dozen  of  the  sub- 
jects over  which  he  scattered  his  attention^  especially 


42  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

now  that  he  had  married  a  "nice  little  woman"  (tlie 
generic  name  for  acquaintances'  wives  when  they  aio 
not  markedly  disagreeable).  lie  could  not,  they  ob- 
served, want  all  his  various  knowledge  and  Laputan 
ideas  for  his  periodical  writing  which  brought  him 
most  of  his  bread,  and  he  would  do  well  to  nse  his 
talents  in  getting  a  specialty  that  would  tit  him  for  a 
post.  Perhaps  these  well-disposed  persons  were  a  lit- 
tle rash  in  presuming  that  fitness  for  a  post  would  be 
the  surest  ground  for  getting  it ;  and,  on  the  whole,  in 
now  looking  back  on  their  wishes  for  Merman,  their 
chief  satisfaction  must  be  that  those  wishes  did  not 
contribute  to  the  actual  result. 

For  in  an  evil  hour  Merman  did  concentrate  him- 
self. He  had  for  many  years  taken  into  his  interest 
the  comparative  history  of  the  ancient  civilizations,  but 
it  had  not  preoccupied  him  so  as  to  narrow  his  gener- 
ous attention  to  everything  else.  One  sleepless  night, 
however  (his  wife  has  more  than  once  narrated  to  me 
the  details  of  an  event  memorable  to  her  as  the  begin- 
ning of  sorrows),  after  spending  some  hours  over  the 
epoch-making  work  of  Grampus,  a  new  idea  seized  him 
with  regard  to  the  possible  connection  of  certain  sym- 
bolic monuments  common  to  widely  scattered  races. 
Merman  started  up  in  bed.  The  night  was  cold,  and 
the  sudden  withdrawal  of  warmth  made  his  wife  first 
dream  of  a  snowball,  and  then  ciy, 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Proteus «" 

"A  great  matter,  Julia.  That  fellow  Grampus, 
whose  book  is  cried  up  as  a  revelation,  is  all  wrong 


now    WE   ENCOURAGE    RESEARCH.  43 

about  the  Mao-icodumbras  and  the  Znzumotzis,  and  I 
have  got  hold  of  the  right  clew." 

"Good  gracious!  does  it  matter  so  much?  Don't 
drag  the  clothes,  dear." 

"  It  signifies  this,  Julia,  that  if  I  am  right  I  shall  set 
the  world  right;  I  shall  regenerate  history' ;  I  shall  win 
the  mind  of  Europe  to  a  new  view  of  social  origins ;  I 
shall  bruise  the  head  of  many  superstitions." 

"  Oh  no,  dear,  don't  go  too  far  into  things.  Lie  down 
again.  You  have  been  dreaming.  What  are  the  Ma- 
dicojumbras  and  Zuzitotzums?  I  never  heard  jou  talk 
of  them  before.  What  use  can  it  be  troubling  yourself 
about  such  things  ?" 

"  That  is  the  way,  Julia  !  That  is  the  way  wives 
alienate  their  husbands,  and  make  any  hearth  pleas- 
anter  to  him  than  his  own." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Proteus?" 

"  Why,  if  a  woman  will  not  try  to  understand  her 
husband's  ideas,  or  at  least  to  believe  that  they  are  of 
more  value  than  she  can  understand — if  she  is  to  join 
anybody  who  happens  to  be  against  him,  and  suppose 
he  is  a  fool  because  others  contradict  him — there  is  an 
end  of  our  happiness.     That  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

"  Oh  no,  Proteus,  dear.  I  do  believe  what  you  say  is 
right.  That  is  my  only  guide.  I  am  sure  I  never  have 
any  opinions  in  any  other  way :  I  mean  about  subjects. 
Of  course  there  are  many  little  things  that  would  tease 
you,  that  you  like  me  to  judge  of  for  myself.  I  know 
I  said  once  that  I  did  not  want  you  to  sing  '  Oh,  rud- 
dier than  the  cherry,'  because  it  was  not  in  your  voice. 


44  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

But  I  cannot  remember  ever  differing  from  you  about 
subjects.  I  never  in  nij  life  thonght  any  one  cleverer 
than  you." 

Julia  Merman  was  really  "a  nice  little  woman," 
not  one  of  the  stately  Dians  sometimes  spoken  of  in 
those  terms.  Her  black  silhouette  had  a  very  infantine 
aspect,  but  she  had  discernment  and  wisdom  enough  to 
act  on  the  strong  hint  of  that  memorable  conversation, 
never  again  giving  her  husband  the  slightest  ground  for 
suspecting  that  she  thought  treasonably  of  his  ideas  in 
relation  to  the  Magicod umbras  and  Zuzumotzis,  or  in 
the  least  relaxed  her  faith  in  his  infallibility  because 
Europe  was  not  also  convinced  of  it.  It  was  well  for 
her  that  she  did  not  increase  her  troubles  in  this  wav ; 
but  to  do  her  justice,  what  she  was  chiefly  anxious  about 
was  to  avoid  increasing  her  husband's  troubles. 

Not  that  these  were  great  in  the  beginning.  In  the 
first  development  and  writing  out  of  his  scheme.  Mer- 
man had  a  more  intense  kind  of  iutellectual  pleasure 
than  he  had  ever  known  before.  His  face  became 
more  radiant,  his  general  view  of  human  prospects 
more  cheerful.  Foreseeing  that  truth  as  presented  by 
himself  would  win  the  recognition  of  his  contempora- 
ries, he  excused  with  much  liberality  their  rather  rough 
treatment  of  other  theorists  whose  basis  was  less  per- 
fect. His  own  periodical  criticisms  had  never  before 
been  so  amiable:  he  was  sorry  for  that  unlucky  major- 
ity whom  the  spirit  of  the  age,  or  some  other  prompt- 
ing more  definite  and  local,  compelled  to  write  without 
any  particular  ideas.      The  possession  of  an  original 


HOW   WE   ENCOUEAGE   RESEARCH.  45 

theory  which  has  not  yet  been  assailed  must  certain- 
ly sweeten  tlie  temper  of  a  man  who  is  not  before- 
liand  ill-natured.  And  Merman  was  the  reverse  of 
ill-natured. 

But  the  hour  of  publication  came ;  and  to  half  a  doz- 
en persons,  described  as  the  learned  world  of  two  hemi- 
spheres, it  became  known  that  Grampus  was  attacked. 
This  might  have  been  a  small  matter,  for  who  or  what 
on  earth  that  is  good  for  anything  is  not  assailed  by 
ignorance,  stupidity,  or  malice  —  and  sometimes  even 
by  just  objection?  But  on  examination  it  appeared 
that  the  attack  might  possibly  be  held  damaging,  un- 
less the  ignorance  of  the  author  were  well  exposed,  and 
his  pretended  facts  shown  to  be  chimeras  of  that  re- 
markably hideous  kind  begotten  by  imperfect  learning 
on  the  more  feminine  element  of  original  incapacity. 
Grampus  himself  did  not  immediately  cut  open  the 
volume  which  Merman  had  been  careful  to  send  him, 
not  without  a  very  lively  and  shifting  conception  of 
the  possible  effects  which  the  explosive  gift  might  pro- 
duce on  the  too  eminent  scholar — eifects  that  must  cer- 
tainly have  set  in  on  the  third  day  from  the  despatch 
of  the  parcel.  But  in  point  of  fact  Grampus  knew 
nothing  of  the  book  until  his  friend  Lord  Narwhal  sent 
him  an  American  newspaper  containing  a  spirited  ar- 
ticle by  the  well-known  Professor  Sperm  N.  Whale, 
which  was  rather  equivocal  in  its  bearing,  the  passages 
quoted  from  Merman  being  of  rather  a  telling  sort, 
and  the  paragra])hs  which  seemed  to  blow  defiance  be- 
ing unaccountably  feeble,  coming  from  so  distinguish- 


46  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

ed  a  Cetacean.  Then,  by  another  post,  arrived  letters 
from  Butzkopf  and  Dugong,  both  men  whose  signa- 
tures were  familiar  to  the  Teutonic  world  in  the  Selten- 
erscheinende  Monat-scJinft,  or  Hayrick  for  the  inser- 
tion of  Split  Ilaii-s,  asking  their  Master  whether  he 
meant  to  take  up  the  combat,  because,  in  the  contrary 
case,  both  were  ready. 

Thus  America  and  Germany  were  roused,  though 
England  was  still  drowsy,  and  it  seemed  time  now  for 
Grampus  to  find  Merman's  book  under  the  heap  and 
cut  it  open.  For  his  own  part,  he  was  perfectly  at 
ease  about  his  system  ;  but  this  is  a  world  in  which 
the  truth  requires  defence,  and  specious  falsehood  must 
be  met  with  exposure.  Grampus  having  once  looked 
through  the  book,  no  longer  wanted  any  urging  to 
wu'ite  the  most  crushing  of  replies.  This,  and  nothing 
less  than  this,  was  due  from  him  to  the  cause  of  sound 
inquiry ;  and  the  punishment  would  cost  him  little 
pains.  In  three  weeks  from  that  time  the  palpitating 
Merman  saw  his  book  announced  in  the  programme  of 
the  leading  Review.  I^o  need  for  Grampus  to  put  his 
signature.  Who  else  had  his  vast  yet  microscopic 
knowledge,  who  else  his  power  of  epithet  ?  This  ar- 
ticle in  which  Merman  was  pilloried  and  as  good  as 
mutilated — for  he  was  shown  to  have  neither  ear  nor 
nose  for  the  subtleties  of  philological  and  archaeologi- 
cal study — was  much  read  and  more  talked  of,  not  be- 
cause of  any  interest  in  the  system  of  Grampus,  or  any 
precise  conception  of  the  danger  attending  lax  views 
of  the  Magicodumbras   and  Zuzumotzis,  but  because 


HOW    WE   ENCOURAGE   RESEARCH.  47 

the  sharp  epigrams  with  which  the  victim  was  lacer- 
ated, and  the  soaring  fountains  of  acrid  mud  which 
were  shot  upward  and  poured  over  the  fresh  wounds, 
were  found  amusing  in  recitah  A  favorite  passage 
was  one  in  which  a  certain  kind  of  sciolist  was  de- 
scribed as  a  creature  of  the  "Walrus  kind,  having  a 
phantasmal  resemblance  to  higher  animals  when  seen 
by  ignorant  minds  in  the  twilight,  dabbling  or  hob- 
bling in  first  one  element  and  then  the  other,  without 
parts  or  organs  suited  to  either;  in  fact,  one  of  Nature's 
impostors,  who  could  not  be  said  to  have  any  artful 
pretences,  since  a  congenital  incompetence  to  all  pre- 
cision of  aim  and  movement  made  their  every  action 
a  pretence  —  just  as  a  being  born  in  doeskin  gloves 
would  necessarily  pass  a  judgment  on  surfaces,  but 
we  all  know  what  his  judgment  would  be  worth.  In 
drawing-room  circles,  and  for  the  immediate  hour,  this 
ingenious  comparison  was  as  damaging  as  the  showing 
up  of  Merman's  mistakes  and  the  mere  smattering  of 
linguistic  and  historical  knowledge  M-hich  he  had  pre- 
sumed to  be  a  sufficient  basis  for  theorizing;  but  tlie 
more  learned  cited  his  blunders  aside  to  each  other, 
and  laughed  the  laugh  of  the  initiated.  In  fact.  Mer- 
man's was  a  remarkable  case  of  sudden  notoriety.  In 
London  drums  and  clubs  he  was  spoken  of  abundantly 
as  one  who  had  written  ridiculously  about  the  Magico- 
dumbras  and  Zuzumotzis :  the  leaders  of  conversation, 
whether  Christians,  Jews,  infidels,  or  of  any  other  con- 
fession except  the  confession  of  ignorance,  pronounc- 
ing him   shallow  and  indiscreet,  if  not  presumptuous 


48  THEOPnRASTUS  SUCH. 

and  absurd.  He  was  heard  of  at  Warsaw,  and  even 
Paris  took  knowled^-e  of  liiin.  M.  Cachalot  had  not 
read  either  Grampus  or  Merman,  but  he  heard  of  their 
dispute  in  time  to  insert  a  paragraph  upon  it  in  his 
brilhant  work,  L^  Orient  au  Point  de  Viie  Actuel,  in 
which  he  was  dispassionate  enough  to  speak  of  Gram- 
pus as  possessing  a  coiip  d''oeil  presque  francais  in 
matters  of  historical  interpretation,  and  of  Merman 
as  nevertlieless  an  objector  qui  merite  d'etre  connu. 
M.  Porpesse,  also,  availing  himself  of  M,  Cachalot's 
knowledge,  reproduced  it  in  an  article  with  certain  ad- 
ditions, which  it  is  only  fair  to  distinguish  as  his  own, 
implying  that  the  vigorous  English  of  Grampus  was 
not  always  as  correct  as  a  Frenchman  could  desire, 
while  Merman's  objections  were  more  sophistical  than 
solid.  Presently,  indeed,  there  appeared  an  able  ex- 
trait  of  Grampus's  article  in  the  valuable  Itajyporteur 
Scientifique  et  Historique,  and  Merman's  mistakes  were 
thus  brought  under  the  notice  of  certain  Frenchmen 
who  are  among  the  masters  of  those  who  know  on  Ori- 
ental subjects.  In  a  word,  Merman,  though  not  exten- 
sively read,  was  extensively  read  about. 

Meanwhile,  how  did  he  like  it  ?  Perhaps  nobody, 
except  his  wife,  for  a  moment  reflected  on  that.  An 
amused  societj^  considered  that  he  was  severely  pun- 
ished, but  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  imagine  his  sen- 
sations; indeed,  this  would  have  been  a  difficulty  for 
persons  less  sensitive  and  excitable  than  Merman  him- 
self. Perhaps  that  popular  comparison  of  the  Walrus 
had  truth  enough  to  bite  and  blister  on  thorough  appli- 


HOW   WE   ENCOURAGE   RESEARCH.  49 

cation,  even  if  exultant  ignorance  had  not  applauded 
it.  But  it  is  well  known  that  the  walrus,  though  not 
in  the  least  a  malignant  animal,  if  allowed  to  display 
its  remarkably  plain  person  and  blundering  perform- 
ances at  ease  in  any  element  it  chooses,  becomes  des- 
perately savage,  and  musters  alarming  auxiliaries  when 
attacked  or  hurt.  In  this  characteristic,  at  least,  Mer- 
man resembled  the  walrus.  And  now  he  concentrated 
himself  with  a  vengeance.  Tliat  liis  counter -theory 
was  fundamentally  the  right  one  he  had  a  genuine 
conviction,  whatever  collateral  mistakes  he  might  have 
committed;  and  his  bread  would  not  cease  to  be  bitter 
to  him  until  he  had  convinced  his  contemporaries  that 
Grampus  had  used  his  minute  learning  as  a  dust-cloud 
to  hide  sophistical  evasions — that,  in  fact,  minute  learn- 
ing was  an  obstacle  to  clear -siglited  judgment,  more 
especially  with  regard  to  the  Magicod umbras  and  Zu- 
zumotzis,  and  tliat  the  best  preparation  in  this  matter 
was  a  wide  survey  of  history  and  a  diversified  observa- 
tion of  men.  Still,  Merman  was  resolved  to  muster  all 
the  learning  within  his  reach,  and  he  wandered  day 
and  night  through  many  wildei-nesses  of  German  print, 
he  tried  compendious  methods  of  learning  Oriental 
tongues,  and,  so  to  speak,  getting  at  the  marrow  of 
languages  independently  of  the  bones,  for  the  chance 
of  finding  details  to  corroborate  his  own  views,  or  pos- 
sibly even  to  detect  Grampus  in  some  oversight  or  text- 
ual tampering.  All  other  work  was  neglected :  rare 
clients  were  sent  awav,  and  amazed  editors  found  ia:3 
maniac  indifferent  to  his  chance  of  getting  book-par- 

3 


50  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

eels  from  them.  It  was  many  mouths  before  Merman 
had  satisfied  himself  that  he  was  strong  enough  to  face 
round  upon  his  adversary.  But  at  last  he  had  pre- 
pared sixty  condensed  pages  of  eager  argument  which 
seemed  to  him  worthy  to  rank  with  the  best  models  of 
contro\ersial  writing.  He  had  acknowledged  his  mis- 
takes, but  had  restated  his  theory,  so  as  to  show  that  it 
was  left  intact  in  spite  of  them ;  and  he  had  even  found 
cases  in  which  Ziphius,  Microps,  Scrag  Whale  the  ex- 
plorer, and  other  Cetaceans  of  unanswerable  authority, 
were  decidedly  at  issue  with  Grampus.  Especially  a 
passage  cited  by  this  last  from  that  greatest  of  fossils 
Megalosaurus  was  demonstrated  by  Merman  to  be  ca- 
pable of  three  different  interpretations,  all  preferable 
to  that  chosen  by  Grampus,  who  took  the  words  in  their 
most  literal  sense ;  for,  1°,  the  incomparable  Saurian, 
alike  unequalled  in  close  observation  and  far -glan- 
cing comprehensiveness,  might  have  meant  those  words 
ironically ;  2°,  inotzls  was  probably  a  false  reading  for 
])otzis^  in  which  case  its  bearing  was  reversed  ;  and,  3°, 
it  is  known  that  in  the  age  of  the  Saurians  there  were 
conceptions  about  the  motzis  which  entirely  remove  it 
from  the  category  of  things  comprehensible  in  an  age 
when  Saurians  run  ridiculously  small :  all  which  views 
were  godfathered  by  names  quite  fit  to  be  ranked  with 
that  of  Grampus.  In  fine,  Merman  wound  up  his  re- 
joinder by  sincerely  thanking  the  eminent  adversary, 
without  whose  fierce  assault  he  might  not  have  under- 
taken a  revision,  in  the  course  of  which  he  had  met 
with  unexpected  and  striking  confirmations  of  his  own 


HOW    WE   ENCOURAGE   RESEARCn.  51 

faiidamental  views.  Evidently  Merman's  anger  was 
at  white-heat. 

The  rejoinder  being  complete,  all  that  remained  was 
to  find  a  suitable  medinm  for  its  publication.  This 
was  not  so  easy.  Distinguished  mediums  would  not 
lend  themselves  to  contradictions  of  Grampus,  or  if 
they  would,  Merman's  article  was  too  long  and  too  ab- 
struse, while  he  would  not  consent  to  leave  anything 
out  of  an  article  which  had  no  superfluities ;  for  all  this 
happened  years  ago,  when  the  world  was  at  a  different 
stage.  At  last,  however,  he  got  his  rejoinder  printed, 
and  not  on  hard  terms,  since  the  medium,  in  every 
sense  modest,  did  not  ask  him  to  pay  for  its  insertion. 

But  if  Merman  expected  to  call  out  Grampus  again, 
he  was  mistaken.  Everybody  felt  it  too  absurd  that 
Merman  should  undertake  to  correct  Grampus  in  mat- 
ters of  erudition,  and  an  eminent  man  has  something 
else  to  do  than  to  refute  a  petty  objector  twice  over. 
What  was  essential  had  been  done:  the  public  had 
been  enabled  to  form  a  true  judgment  of  Merman's 
incapacity,  the  Magicodumbras  and  Zuzumotzis  were 
but  subsidiary  elements  in  Grampus's  system,  and 
Merman  might  now  be  dealt  with  by  younger  mem- 
bers of  the  master's  scliool.  But  he  had  at  least  the 
satisfaction  of  finding  that  he  had  raised  a  discussion 
which  would  not  be  let  die.  The  followers  of  Gram- 
pus took  it  up  with  an  ardor  and  industry  of  research 
worthy  of  their  exemplar.  Butzkopf  made  it  the  sub- 
ject of  an  elaborate  Einleitung  to  his  important  work, 
Die  Bedeutung  des  j^gyjptischen  Labijrinthes ;  and 


52  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

DusroDo:,  in  a  remarkable  address  which  he  delivered 
to  a  learned  society  in  Central  Europe,  introduced 
Merman's  theory  with  so  much  power  of  sarcasm  that 
it  became  a  theme  of  more  or  less  derisive  allusion 
to  men  of  many  tongues.  Merman  with  his  Magico- 
dnmbras  and  Zuzumotzis  was  on  the  way  to  become  a 
proverb,  being  used  illustratively  by  many  able  jour- 
nalists who  took  those  names  of  questionable  things 
to  be  Merman's  own  invention, "  than  which,"  said  one 
of  the  graver  guides,  "  we  can  recall  few  more  melan- 
choly examples  of  speculative  aberration."  Natural!}', 
the  subject  passed  into  popular  literature,  and  figured 
A-ery  Conmionlj'  in  advertised  progranmies.  The  fluent 
Loligo,  the  formidable  Shark,  and  a  3'ounger  member 
of  his  remarkable  family  known  as  S.  Catulus,  made  a 
special  reputation  by  their  numerous  articles,  eloquent, 
lively,  or  abusive,  all  on  the  same  theme,  under  titles 
ingeniously  varied,  alliterative,  sonorous,  or  boldly  fan- 
ciful; such  as,  "Moments  with  Mr.  Merman,"  "Mr. 
Merman  and  the  Magicodumbras,"  "  Greenland  Gram- 
pus and  Proteus  Merman,"  "  Grampian  Heights  and 
their  Climbers,  or  the  New  Excelsior."  They  tossed 
him  on  short  sentences;  they  swathed  him  in  para- 
graphs of  windiug  imagery;  they  found  him  at  once 
a  mere  plagiarist  and  a  theorizer  of  unexampled  per- 
versity, ridiculously  wroug  about  j)ot2is  and  ignorant 
of  Pali ;  they  hinted,  indeed,  at  certain  things  which 
to  their  knowledge  he  had  silently  brooded  over  in  his 
boyhood,  and  seemed  tolerably  well  assured  that  this 
preposterous  attempt  to  gainsay  an  incomparable  Ce- 


HOW    WE    ENCOURAGE   RESEARCH.  53 

tacean  of  world-wide  fame  had  its  origin  in  a  peculiar 
mixture  of  bitterness  and  eccentricitj",  which,  rightly 
estimated  and  seen  in  its  definite  proportions,  would 
furnish  the  best  key  to  his  argumentation.  All  alike 
were  sorry  for  Merman^s  lack  of  sound  learning,  but 
how  could  their  readers  be  sorry  ?  Sound  learning 
M'ould  not  have  been  amusing ;  and  as  it  was,  Merman 
was  made  to  furnish  these  readers  with  amusement  at 
no  expense  of  trouble  on  their  part.  Even  burlesque 
writers  looked  into  his  book  to  see  where  it  could  be 
made  use  of,  and  tliose  who  did  not  know  him  were 
desirous  of  meeting  him  at  dinner  as  one  likely  to  feed 
their  comic  vein. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  made  a  serious  figure  in  ser- 
mons under  the  name  of  "Some"  or  "Others"  who 
had  attempted  presumptuously  to  scale  eminences  too 
high  and  arduous  for  human  ability,  and  had  given  an 
example  of  ignominious  failure  edifying  to  the  lium- 
ble  Christian. 

All  this  might  be  very  advantageous  for  able  per- 
sons whose  superfluous  fund  of  expression  needcnl  a 
paying  investment,  but  the  effect  on  Merman  himself 
was  unhappily  not  so  transient  as  the  busy  writing  and 
speaking  of  which  he  had  become  the  occasion.  His 
certainty  that  he  was  right  naturally  got  stronger  in 
proportion  as  the  spirit  of  resistance  was  stimulated. 
The  scorn  and  unfairness  with  which  he  felt  himself 
to  have  been  treated  by  those  really  competent  to  aj)- 
preciate  his  ideas  had  galled  him  and  made  a  chron- 
ic sore;  and  the  exultant  chorus  of  the  incompetent 


54  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

seemed  a  pouring  of  vinegar  on  his  wound.  Ilis  brain 
became  a  registry  of  the  foolish  and  ignorant  objec- 
tions made  against  him,  and  of  continually  amplified 
answers  to  these  objections.  Unable  to  get  his  answers 
printed,  he  had  recourse  to  that  more  primitive  mode 
of  publication,  oral  transmission  or  button-holding, 
now  generally  regarded  as  a  troublesome  survival,  and 
the  once  pleasant,  flexible  Merman  was  on  the  way  to 
be  shunned  as  a  bore.  His  interest  in  new  acquaint- 
ances turned  chiefly  on  the  possibility  that  they  would 
care  about  the  Magicodumbras  and  Zuzumotzis;  that 
they  would  listen  to  his  complaints  and  exposures  of 
unfairness,  and  not  only  accept  copies  of  what  he  had 
written  on  the  subject,  but  send  him  appreciative  let- 
ters in  acknowledgment.  Kepeated  disappointment  of 
such  hopes  tended  to  embitter  him,  and  not  the  less 
because  after  awhile  the  fashion  of  mentioning  him 
died  out,  allusions  to  his  theory  were  less  undei-stood, 
and  people  could  only  pretend  to  remember  it.  And 
all  the  while  Mei-raan  was  perfectly  sure  that  his  very 
opponents  who  had  knowledge  enough  to  be  capable 
judges  were  aware  that  his  book,  whatever  errors  of 
statement  they  might  detect  in  it,  had  served  as  a  sort 
of  divining  rod,  pointing  out  hidden  sources  of  histor- 
ical interpretation  ;  nay,  his  jealous  examination  dis- 
cerned in  a  new  work  by  Grampus  himself  a  certain 
shifting  of  ground  which — so  poor  Merman  declared 
— was  the  sign  of  an  intention  gradually  to  appropri- 
ate the  views  of  the  man  he  had  attempted  to  brand 
as  an  ignorant  impostor. 


HOW   WE   ENCOURAGE   RESEARCH.  55 

And  Julia?  And  the  house -keeping?  —  the  rent, 
food,  and  clothing,  which  controversy  can  hardly  supply, 
unless  it  be  of  the  kind  that  serves  as  a  reconunen- 
dation  to  certain  posts.  Controversial  pamphlets  have 
been  known  to  earn  large  plums;  but  nothing  of  the 
sort  could  be  expected  from  unpractical  heresies  about 
the  Magicodumbras  and  Zuzumotzis.  Painfully  the 
contrary.  Merman's  reputation  as  a  sober  thinker, 
a  safe  writer,  s\  sound  lawyer,  was  irretrievably  in- 
jured:  the  distnctions  of  controversy  had  cau:^ed  him 
to  neglect  usefnl  editorial  connections,  and  indeed  his 
dwindling  care  for  miscellaneous  sul)jects  made  his 
contributions  too  dull  to  be  desirable.  Even  if  he 
could  now  have  given  a  new  turn  to  his  concentration, 
and  applied  his  talents  so  as  to  be  ready  to  show  him- 
self an  exceptionally  qualified  lawyer,  he  would  only 
have  been  like  an  architect  in  competition,  too  late 
with  his  superior  plans;  he  would  not  have  had  an 
opportunity  of  showing  his  qualification.  lie  was 
thrown  out  of  the  course.  The  small  capital  which 
had  filled  up  deficiencies  of  income  was  almost  ex- 
hausted, and  Julia,  in  the  effort  to  make  supplies  equal 
to  wants,  had  to  use  much  ingenuity  in  diminishing 
the  wants.  The  brave  and  affectionate  woman  whose 
small  outline,  so  unimpressi\'e  against  an  illuminated 
background,  held  within  it  a  good  share  of  feminine 
heroism,  did  her  best  to  keep  up  the  charm  of  home 
and  soothe  her  husband's  excitement ;  parting  with  the 
best  jewel  among  her  wedding  presents  in  order  to 
pay  rent,  without  ever  hinting  to  her  husband  that 


56  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

this  sad  result  had  come  of  his  undertaking  to  con- 
vince people  who  only  laughed  at  liim.  She  was  a 
resigned  little  creature,  and  reflected  that  some  hus- 
bands took  to  drinking  and  others  to  forgery :  hers 
had  only  taken  to  the  Magicoduinbras  and  Znzuniotzis, 
and  was  not  unkind — only  a  little  more  indifferent  to 
lier  and  the  two  children  than  she  had  ever  expected 
he  would  he,  his  mind  being  eaten  up  with  "subjects," 
and  constantly  a  little  angry,  not  with  her,  but  with 
everybody  else,  especially  those  w^lio  were  celebrated. 

This  was  the  sad  truth.  Merman  felt  himself  ill- 
used  by  the  world,  and  thought  very  niuch  worse  of 
the  world  in  consequence.  The  gall  of  his  adversaries' 
ink  had  been  sucked  into  his  system  and  ran  in  his 
blood.  He  was  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  but  his  mind 
was  aged  by  that  eager,  monotonous  construction  which 
comes  of  feverish  excitement  on  a  single  topic,  and 
uses  up  the  intellectual  strength. 

Merman  had  never  been  a  rich  man,  but  he  was 
now  conspicuously  poor,  and  in  need  of  the  friends 
who  had  power  or  interest  which  he  believed  they 
could  exert  on  his  behalf.  Their  omitting  or  declin- 
ing to  give  this  help  could  not  seem  to  him  so  clearly 
as  to  them  an  inevitable  consequence  of  his  having 
become  impracticable,  or  at  least  of  his  passing  for  a 
man  whose  views  were  not  likely  to  be  safe  and  sober. 
Each  friend  in  turn  offended  him,  though  unwillingly, 
and  was  suspected  of  wishing  to  shake  him  off.  It 
was  not  altogether  so ;  but  poor  Merman's  society  had 
undeniably  ceased  to  be  attractive,  and  it  was  difficult 


HOW    WE    ENCOURAGE   RESEARCH.  57 

to  help  him.  At  hist  the  pressure  of  want  urged  him 
to  try  for  a  post  far  beneath  his  earlier  prospects,  and 
he  gained  it.  lie  holds  it  still,  for  he  has  no  vices, 
and  his  domestic  life  has  kept  up  a  sweetening  current 
of  motive  around  and  within  him.  Nevertheless,  the 
bitter  flavor  mingling  itself  with  all  topics,  the  prema- 
ture weariness  and  withering,  are  irrevocablj^  there. 
It  is  as  if  he  had  gone  through  a  disease  which  alters 
what  we  call  the  constitution.  He  has  long  ceased  to 
talk  eagerly  of  the  ideas  which  possess  him,  or  to  at- 
tempt making  proselytes.  The  dial  has  moved  on- 
ward, and  he  himself  sees  many  of  his  former  guesses 
in  a  new  light.  On  the  other  hand,  he  has  seen  what 
he  foreboded,  that  the  main  idea  which  was  at  the 
root  of  his  too  rash  theorizing  has  been  adopted  by 
Grampus  and  received  with  general  respect,  no  refer- 
ence being  heard  to  the  ridiculous  figure  this  important 
conception  made  when  ushered  in  by  the  incompetent 
"  Others." 

Now  and  then,  on  rare  occasions,  when  a  sympathetic 
tete-d-tete  has  restored  some  of  his  old  expansiveness, 
he  will  tell  a  companion  in  a  railway-carriage,  or  other 
place  of  meeting  favoi'able  to  autobiographical  confi- 
dences, what  has  been  the  course  of  things  in  his  par- 
ticular case,  as  an  example  of  the  justice  to  be  expected 
of  the  world.  The  companion  usually  allows  for  the 
bitterness  of  a  disappointed  man,  and  is  secretly  disin- 
clined to  believe  that  Grampus  was  to  blame. 

3* 


58  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


IV. 

A  MAN   SURPRISED  AT  HIS  ORIGINALITY. 

Among  the  many  acute  sayings  of  La  Rocliefoucauld, 
there  is  hardly  one  more  acute  than  this:  "La  plus 
grande   ambition   n'en   a  pas  la   moindre   apparencie 
lorsqu'elle  se  rencontre  dans  une  impossibilite  absolne 
d'arriver  ou  elle  aspire."     Some  of  us  might  do  well 
to  use  this  hint  in  our  treatment  of  acquaintances  and 
friends  from  whom  we  are  expecting  gratitude  because 
we  are  so  very  kind  in  thinking  of  them,  inviting  them, 
and  even  listening  to  what  they  say — considering  how 
insignificant   they  must  feel  themselves   to   be.     We 
are  often  fallaciously  confident  in  supposing  that  our 
friend's  state  of  mind  is  appropriate  to  our  moderate 
estimate  of  his  importance:  almost  as  if  we  imagined 
the  humble  mollusk  (so  useful  as  an  illustration)  to 
have  a  sense  of  his  own  exceeding  softness  and  low 
place  in  the  scale  of  being.     Your  mollusk,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  inwardly  objecting  to  every  other  grade  of 
solid  rather  than  to  himself.     Accustomed  to  obser\e 
what  we  think  an  unwarrantable    conceit  exhibiting 
itself  in  ridiculous  pretensions  and  forwardness  to  play 
the  lion's  part,  in  obvious  self-complacenc}^  and  loud 
peremptoriness,  we  are  not  on  the  alert  to  detect  the 
egoistic  claims  of  a  more  exorbitant  kind  often  hidden 


A    MAN   SURPRISED   AT   HIS   ORIGINALITY.  59 

under  an   apparent  neutrality  or  an  acquiescence  in 
being  pnt  out  of  the  question. 

TiiDUghts  of  tliis  kind  occurred  to  me  yesterday 
wlien  I  saw  the  name  of  Lentulus  in  the  obituary. 
The  majority  of  his  acquaintances,  I  imagine,  have 
always  thought  of  him  as  a  man  justly  unpretending 
and  as  nobody's  rival ;  but  some  of  them  have  perhaps 
been  struck  with  surprise  at  his  reserve  in  praising  the 
works  of  his  contemporaries,  and  have  now  and  then 
felt  themselves  in  need  of  a  key  to  his  remarks  on  men 
of  celebrity  in  various  departments.  He  was  a  man  of 
fair  position,  deriving  his  income  from  a  business  in 
which  he  did  nothing,  at  leisure  to  frequent  clubs  and 
at  ease  in  giving  dinners;  well -looking,  polite,  and 
generally  acceptable  in  society  as  a  part  of  what  we 
may  call  its  bread-crumb — the  neutral  basis  needful 
for  the  plums  and  spice.  Why,  then,  did  he  speak  of 
the  modern  Maro  or  the  modern  Flaccus  with  a  pe- 
culiarity in  his  tone  of  assent  to  other  people's  praise 
which  might  almost  have  led  you  to  suppose  that  the 
eminent  poet  had  borrowed  money  of  him  and  showed 
an  indisposition  to  repay?  He  had  no  criticism  to 
offer,  no  sign  of  objection  more  specific  than  a  sliglit 
cough,  a  scarcely  perceptible  pause  before  assenting, 
and  an  air  of  self-control  in  his  utterance — as  if  cer- 
tain considerations  had  determined  him  not  to  inform 
against  the  so-called  poet,  who  to  his  knowledge  was  a 
mere  versifier.  If  you  had  questioned  him  closely,  he 
would  perhaps  have  confessed  that  he  did  think  some- 
thing better  might  be  done  in  the  way  of  Eclogues 


60  TIIEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

and  Georgics,  or  of  Odes  and  Epodes,  and  that  to  his 
mind  poetry  was  something  very  different  from  what 
had  hitherto  been  known  under  that  name. 

For  my  own  part,  being  of  a  superstitions  nature, 
given  readily  to  imagine  alarming  causes,  I  immedi- 
ately, on  first  getting  these  mystic  hints  from  Lentulus, 
concluded  that  he  held  a  numljer  of  entirely  original 
poems,  or  at  the  very  least  a  revolutionary  treatise  on 
poetics,  in  that  melanclioly  manuscript  state  to  which 
works  excelling  all  that  is  ever  printed  are  necessarily 
condemned ;  and  I  was  long  timid  in  speaking  of  the 
poets  when  he  was  present.  rt)r  what  iniglit  not  Len- 
tuhis  have  done,  or  be  profoundly  aware  of,  that  would 
make  my  ignorant  impressions  ridiculous?  One  can- 
not well  be  sure  of  the  negative  in  such  a  case,  except 
through  certain  positives  that  bear  witness  to  it;  and 
those  witnesses  are  not  always  to  be  got  hold  of.  But 
time  wearing  on,  I  perceived  that  the  attitude  of  Len- 
tulus toward  the  philosophers  was  essentially  the  same 
as  his  attitude  toward  the  poets;  nay,  there  was  some- 
thing so  much  more  decided  in  his  mode  of  closing  his 
mouth  after  brief  speech  on  the  foi'mer,  there  was  such 
an  air  of  rapt  consciousness  in  his  private  hints  as  to 
his  conviction  that  all  thinkin<i:  hitherto  had  been  an 
elaborate  mistake,  and  as  to  his  own  power  of  conceiv- 
ing a  sound  basis  for  a  lasting  superstructure,  that  I 
began  to  believe  less  in  the  poetical  stores,  and  to  infer 
that  the  line  of  Lentulus  lay  rather  in  the  rational  criti- 
cism of  our  beliefs  and  in  systematic  construction.  In 
this  case  I  did  not  figure  to  myself  the  existence  of 


A   MAN   SURPRISED   AT   HIS   ORIGINALITY.  61 

formidable  manuscripts  ready  for  the  press ;  for  great 
thinkers  are  known  to  carry  their  theories  growing 
within  their  minds  long  before  committing  them  to 
paper,  and  the  ideas  which  made  a  new  passion  for 
them  when  their  locks  were  jet  or  auburn,  remain 
perilously  unwritten,  an  inwardly  developing  condition 
of  their  successive  selves,  until  the  locks  are  gray  or 
scanty.  I  only  meditated  impro^•ingly  on  the  way  in 
which  a  man  of  exceptional  faculties,  and  even  cann- 
ing within  him  some  of  that  fierce  refiner's  fire  whicli 
is  to  purge  away  the  dross  of  human  eri-or,  may  move 
about  in  society  totally  unrecognized,  regarded  as  a 
person  whose  opinion  is  supei'flnous,  and  only  rising 
into  a  power  in  emergencies,  of  tln-eatened  black-ball- 
incr.  Imao-ine  a  Descartes  or  a  Locke  being  recoo-- 
nized  for  nothing  more  than  a  good  fellow  and  a  per- 
fect gentleman — what  a  painful  view  does  such  a  pict- 
ure suggest  of  impenetrable  dulness  in  the  society 
around  them ! 

I  would  at  all  times  rather  be  reduced  to  a  chea})cr 
estimate  of  a  particular  person,  if  by  that  means  I  can 
get  a  more  cheerful  view  of  my  fellow-men  generally ; 
and  I  confess  that  in  a  certain  curiosity  wdiich  led  me 
to  cultivate  Lentulus's  acquaintance,  ray  hope  leaned 
to  the  discovery  that  he  was  a  less  remarkable  man 
than  he  had  seemed  to  impl3\  It  would  have  been  a 
grief  to  discover  that  he  was  bitter  or  malicious,  but  by 
finding  him  to  be  neither  a  mighty  poet,  nor  a  revolu- 
tionary poetical  critic,  nor  an  epoch-making  philoso- 
pliei',  my  admiration  for  the  poets  and  thinkers  whom 


62  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

he  rated  so  low  would  recover  all  its  buoyanc}^,  and  I 
should  not  be  left  to  trust  to  that  very  suspicious  sort 
of  merit  which  constitutes  an  exception  in  the  history 
of  mankind,  and  recommends  itself  as  the  total  aboli- 
tionist of  all  previous  claims  on  our  confidence.  You 
are  not  greatly  surprised  at  the  infirm  logic  of  the 
coachman  who  would  persuade  you  to  engage  him  by 
insisting  that  any  other  would  be  sure  to  rob  you  in  the 
matter  of  hay  and  corn,  thus  demanding  a  difiicult  be- 
lief in  him  as  the  sole  exception  from  the  frailties  of 
his  calling ;  but  it  is  rather  astonishing  that  the  whole- 
sale decriers  of  mankind  and  its  performances  should 
be  even  more  unwary  in  their  reasoning  than  the  coach- 
man, since  each  of  them  not  merely  confides  in  your 
regarding  himself  as  an  exception,  but  overlooks  the 
almost  certain  fact  that  you  are  wondering  whether  he 
inwardly  excepts  you.  Now,  conscious  of  entertain- 
ing some  common  opinions  which  seemed  to  fall  under 
the  mildly  intimated  but  sweeping  ban  of  Lentulus,  my 
self-complacency  was  a  little  concerned. 

Hence  I  deliberately  attempted  to  draw  out  Lentu- 
lus in  private  dialogue,  for  it  is  the  reverse  of  iniury 
to  a  man  to  offer  him  that  heai-ing  which  he  seems  to 
have  found  nowhere  else.  And  for  whatever  purposes 
silence  may  be  equal  to  gold,  it  cannot  be  safely  taken 
as  an  indication  of  specific  ideas.  I  sought  to  know 
why  Lentulus  was  more  than  indifferent  to  the  poets, 
and  what  was  that  new  poetry  which  he  had  either 
written  or,  as  to  its  principles,  distinctly  conceived. 
But  1  presently  found  that  he  knew  very  little  of  any 


A   MAN   SURPRISED   AT  HIS  ORIGINALITY.  63 

particular  poet,  and  had  a  general  notion  of  poetry  as 
the  use  of  artificial  language  to  express  unreal  senti- 
ments :  he  instanced  "  The  Giaour,"  "  Lalla  Eookh," 
"  The  Pleasures  of  Hope,"  and  "  Ruin  seize  thee,  ruth- 
less King  ;"  adding,  "  and  plenty  more."  On  my  ob- 
serving that  he  probably  preferred  a  lai-ger,  simpler 
style,  he  emphatically  assented.  "  Have  you  not,"  said 
I,  "written  something  of  that  order?"  "No;  but  I 
often  compose  as  I  go  along.  I  see  how  things  might 
be  written  as  fine  as  Ossian,  only  with  true  ideas.  The 
world  has  no  notion  what  poetry  will  be." 

It  was  impossible  to  disprove  this,  and  I  am  always 
glad  to  believe  that  the  poverty  of  our  imagination  is 
no  measure  of  the  world's  resources.  Our  posterity 
will  no  doubt  get  fuel  in  M-ays  that  we  are  unable  to 
devise  for  them.  But  what  this  conversation  persuaded 
me  of  was,  that  the  birth  with  which  the  mind  of  Len- 
tulus  was  pregnant  could  not  be  poetry,  though  I  did 
not  question  that  he  composed  as  he  went  along,  and 
that  the  exercise  was  accompanied  with  a  great  sense 
of  power.  This  is  a  frequent  experience  in  dreams, 
and  much  of  our  waking  experience  is  but  a  dream  in 
the  daylight.  Nay,  for  what  I  saw,  the  compositions 
might  be  fairly  classed  as  Ossianic,  But  I  was  satis- 
fied that  Lentulus  could  not  disturb  my  grateful  ad- 
miration for  the  poets  of  all  ages  by  eclipsing  them,  or 
by  putting  them  under  a  new  electric  light  of  criticism. 

Still,  he  had  himself  thrown  the  chief  emphasis  of 
his  protest  and  his  consciousness  of  corrective  illumina- 
tion on  the  philosophic  thinking  of  our  race,  and  his 


64  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

tone  in  assuring  me  that  everything  which  had  been 
done  in  that  way  was  wrong — that  Plato,  Robert  Owen, 
and  Dr.  Tiiftle,  who  wrote  in  the  Regulator^  were  all 
equally  mistaken,  gave  ray  superstitions  nature  a  thrill 
of  anxiety.  After  what  had  passed  about  the  poets, 
it  did  not  seem  likely  that  Lentulus  had  all  systems  by 
heart;  but  who  could  say  he  had  not  seized  that  thread 
M'hich  may  somewhere  hang  out  loosel}'  from  the  web 
of  things  and  be  the  clew  of  nnravelment  ?  We  need 
not  go  far  to  learn  that  a  prophet  is  not  made  by  eru- 
dition. Lentulus  at  least  had  not  the  bias  of  a  school ; 
and  if  it  turned  out  that  he  was  in  agreement  with 
any  celebrated  thinker,  ancient  or  modern,  the  agree- 
ment would  have  the  value  of  an  undesigned  coinci- 
dence not  due  to  fors^otten  readino;.  It  was  therefore 
with  renewed  curiositv  tliat  I  enn-ao-ed  him  on  this 
large  subject — the  universal  erroneousness  of  thinking 
up  to  the  period  when  Lentulus  began  that  process. 
And  here  I  found  him  more  copious  than  on  the  theme 
of  poetry.  lie  admitted  that  he  did  contemplate  writ- 
ing down  his  thoughts,  but  his  difficulty  was  their  abun- 
dance. Apparently  he  was  like  tlie  wood-cutter  enter- 
ing the  thick  forest  and  saying,"  Where  shall  I  begin  f 
The  same  obstacle  appeared  in  a  minor  degree  to  cling 
about  his  verl)al  exposition,  and  accounted  perhaps  for 
his  rather  helter-skelter  choice  of  remarks  bearing  on 
the  number  of  unaddressed  letters  sent  to  the  post-of- 
fice;  on  what  logic  really  is,  as  tending  to  support  the 
buoyancy  of  human  mediums  and  mahogany  tables; 
on  the  probability  of  all  miracles  under  all  religions 


A    MAN   SURPRISED   AT   HIS   ORIGIXALITY.  65 

when  explained  by  hidden  laws,  and  my  unreasonable- 
ness in  supposing  that  their  profuse  occurrence  at  half 
a  ffuinea  an  hour  in  recent  times  was  anvthinff  more 
than  a  coincidence;  on  the  hap-hazard  way  in  which 
marriages  are  determined — showing  the  baselessness  of 
social  and  moral  schemes;  and  on  his  expectation  tliat 
he  should  offend  the  scientific  world  when  he  told  them 
what  he  thought  of  electricity  as  an  agent. 

No  man's  appearance  could  be  graver  or  more  gen- 
tlemanlike than  that  of  Lentulus  as  we  walked  along 
the  Mall  while  he  delivered  these  observations,  under- 
stood by  himself  to  have  a  regenerative  bearing  on  hu- 
man society.  His  wristbands  and  black  gloves,  his  hat 
and  nicely  clipped  hair,  his  laudable  moderation  in 
beard,  and  his  evident  discrimination  in  clioosiui'-  his 
tailor,  all  seemed  to  excuse  the  prevalent  estimate  of 
him  as  a  man  untainted  with  heterodoxy,  and  likely 
to  be  so  unencumbered  with  opinions  that  he  would 
always  be  useful  as  an  assenting  and  admiring  listener. 
Men  of  science,  seeing  him  at  their  lectures,  doubtless , 
flattered  themselves  that  he  came  to  learn  from  them ; 
the  philosophic  ornaments  of  our  time,  expounding 
some  of  tlieir  luminous  ideas  in  the  social  circle,  took 
the  meditative  gaze  of  Lentulus  for  one  of  surprise,  not 
unmixed  with  a  iust  reverence  at  such  close  reasonino- 
toward  so  novel  a  conclusion  ;  and  those  who  are  called 
?nen  of  the  world  considered  him  a  good  fellow  who 
might  be  asked  to  vote  for  a  friend  of  their  own,  and 
would  have  no  troublesome  notions  to  make  him  un- 
accommodating.    You  perceive  how  veiy  much  they 


66  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

were  all  mistaken,  except  in  qualifying  him  as  a  good 
fellow. 

This  Lentuliis  certainly  was,  in  the  sense  of  being 
free  from  envy,  hatred,  and  malice;  and  such  freedom 
was  all  the  more  remarkable  an  indication  of  native 
benignity,  because  of  his  gaseous,  illimitably  expansive 
conceit.  Yes,  conceit ;  for  that  his  enormous  and 
contentedly  ignorant  confidence  in  his  own  rambling 
thoughts  was  usually  clad  in  a  decent  silence,  is  no 
reason  why  it  should  be  less  strictly  called  by  the  name 
directly  implying  a  complacent  self  -  estimate  unwar- 
ranted by  performance.  Nay,  the  total  privacy  in 
which  he  enjoyed  his  consciousness  of  inspiration  was 
the  very  condition  of  its  undisturbed  placid  nourish- 
ment and  gigantic  growth.  Your  audibly  arrogant 
man  exposes  himself  to  tests :  in  attempting  to  make 
an  impression  on  others,  he  may  possibly  (not  always) 
be  made  to  feel  his  own  lack  of  definiteness ;  and  the 
demand  for  definiteness  is  to  all  of  us  a  needful  check 
on  vague  depreciation  of  what  others  do,  and  vague 
ecstatic  trust  in  our  own  superior  ability.  But  Lentu- 
lus  was  at  once  so  nnreceptive,  and  so  little  gifted  with 
the  power  of  displaying  his  miscellaneous  deficiency  of 
information,  that  there  was  really  nothing  to  hinder  his 
astonishment  at  the  spontaneous  crop  of  ideas  which 
his  mind  secretly  yielded.  If  it  occurred  to  him  that 
there  were  more  meanings  than  one  for  the  word  "  mo- 
tive," since  it  sometimes  meant  the  end  aimed  at,  and 
sometimes  the  feeling  tliat  prompted  the  aiming,  and 
that  the  word  "  cause  "  was  also  of  changeable  import, 


A   MAN   SURPRISED  AT  HIS  ORIGINALITY.  67 

lie  was  naturally  struck  with  the  truth  of  his  own  per- 
ception, and  was  convinced  that  if  this  vein  were  well 
followed  out  much  might  be  made  of  it.  Men  were 
evidently  in  the  wrong  about  cause  and  effect,  else  why 
was  society  in  the  confused  state  we  behold  ?  And  as 
to  motive,  Lentulus  felt  that  when  he  came  to  write 
down  his  views  he  should  look  deeply  into  this  kind 
of  subject,  and  show  up  thereby  the  anomalies  of  our 
social  institutions;  meanwhile  the  various  aspects  of 
"  motive  "  and  "  cause  "  flitted  about  among  the  mot- 
ley crowd  of  ideas  which  he  regarded  as  original,  and 
pregnant  with  reformative  efficacy.  For  his  unaffect- 
ed good-will  made  him  regard  all  his  insight  as  only 
valuable  because  it  tended  toward  reform. 

The  respectable  man  had  got  into  his  illusory  maze 
of  discoveries  by  letting  go  that  clew  of  conformity  in 
his  thinking  which  he  had  kept  fast  hold  of  in  his 
tailoring  and  manners.  He  regarded  heterodoxy  as  a 
power  in  itself,  and  took  his  inacquaintance  with  doc- 
trines for  a  creative  dissidence.  But  his  epitaph  needs 
not  to  be  a  melancholy  one.  His  benevolent  disposi- 
tion was  more  effective  for  good  than  his  silent  pre- 
sumption for  harm.  He  might  have  been  mischievous 
but  for  the  lack  of  words :  instead  of  being  astonished 
at  his  inspirations  in  private,  he  might  have  clad  his 
addled  originalities,  disjointed  commonplaces,  blind  de- 
nials, and  balloon-like  conclusions,  in  that  mighty  sort 
of  lancruaofe  which  would  have  made  a  new  Koran  for 
a  knot  of  followers.  I  mean  no  disrespect  to  the  an- 
cient Koran,  but  one  would  net  desire  the  roc  to  lay 


68  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

more  eggs,  and  give  us  a  whole  wing-flappiiig  brood  to 
soar  and  make  twilight. 

Peace  be  with  Leiitulus,  for  he  has  left  ns  in  peace. 
Blessed  is  the  man  who,  having  nothing  to  say,  abstains 
from  jyivino:  us  wordv  evidence  of  the  fact — from  call- 
ing  on  ns  to  look  through  a  heap  of  millet-seed  in  or- 
der to  be  sure  that  there  is  no  pearl  in  it. 


A  TOO   DEFERENTIAL  MAN.  69 


V. 

A  TOO  DEFERENTIAL  MAN. 

A  LITTLE  unpremeditated  insincerity  must  be  in- 
dnlged  under  the  stress  of  social  intercourse.  The 
talk  even  of  an  honest  man  must  often  represent  mere- 
ly his  wish  to  be  inoffensive  or  agreeable,  rather  than 
his  genuine  opinion  or  feeling  on  the  matter  in  hand. 
Ilis  thouglit,  if  uttered,  might  be  wounding;  or  he  has 
not  the  ability  to  utter  it  with  exactness,  and  snatches 
at  a  loose  paraphrase ;  or  he  has  really  no  genuine 
thought  on  the  question,  and  is  driven  to  fill  up  the 
vacancy  by  borrowing  the  remarks  in  vogue.  These 
are  the  winds  and  currents  we  have  all  to  steer  among, 
and  they  are  often  too  strong  for  our  truthfulness  or 
our  wit.  Let  us  not  bear  too  hardly  on  eacli  other  for 
this  common  incidental  frailtv,  or  think  that  we  rise 
superior  to  it  by  dropping  all  considerateness  and  def- 
erence. 

But  there  are  studious,  deliberate  fonns  of  insinceri- 
ty which  it  is  fair  to  be  impatient  with :  Hinze's,  for 
example.  From  his  name  3'ou  might  suppose  him  to 
be  German :  in  fact,  his  family  is  Alsatian,  but  has 
been  settled  in  England  for  more  than  one  generation. 
He  is  the  superlatively  deferential  man,  and  walks 
about  with  murmured  wonder  at  the  wisdom  and  dis- 


70  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

ccrnment  of  everybody  who  talks  to  him.  He  culti- 
vates the  low-toned  tete-d-tete^  keeping  his  hat  caref nil}' 
in  his  hand  and  often  stroking  it,  while  he  smiles  with 
downcast  eyes,  as  if  to  relieve  his  feelings  under  the 
pressure  of  the  remarkable  conversation  which  it  is  his 
honor  to  enjoy  at  the  present  moment.  I  confess  to 
,some  rage  on  hearing  him  yesterday  talking  to  Felicia, 
who  is  certainly  a  clever  woman,  and,  without  any  un- 
usual desire  to  show  her  cleverness,  occasionally  says 
something  of  her  own  or  makes  an  allusion  which  is 
not  quite  common.  Still,  it  must  happen  to  her  as  to 
every  one  else  to  speak  of  many  subjects  on  which  the 
best  things  were  said  long  ago,  and  in  conversation 
with  a  person  who  has  been  newly  introduced,  those 
well-worn  themes  naturally  recur  as  a  further  develop- 
ment of  salutations  and  preliminary  media  of  under- 
standing, such  as  pipes,  chocolate,  or  mastic -chewing, 
which  serve  to  contirm  the  impression  that  our  new 
acquaintance  is  on  a  civilized  footing,  and  has  enough 
regard  for  formulas  to  save  us  from  shockin^c  out- 
bursts  of  individualism,  to  which  we  are  always  ex- 
posed with  the  tamest  bear  or  baboon.  Considered 
purely  as  a  matter  of  information,  it  cannot  any  longer 
be  important  for  us  to  learn  that  a  British  subject  in- 
cluded in  the  last  census  holds  Shakspeare  to  be  su- 
preme in  the  presentation  of  character ;  still,  it  is  as 
admissible  for  any  one  to  make  this  statement  about 
himself  as  to  rub  his  hands  and  tell  you  that  the  air  is 
brisk,  if  only  he  will  let  it  fall  as  a  matter  of  course, 
with  a  parenthetic  lightness,  and  not  announce  his  ad- 


A  TOO  DEFERENTIAL  MAN.  71 

hesion  to  a  commonplace  with  an  emphatic  insistance, 
as  if  it  were  a  proof  of  singular  insight.  We  mortals 
should  chiefly  like  to  talk  to  each  other  out  of  good- 
will and  fellowship,  not  for  the  sake  of  hearing  reve- 
lations or  being  stimulated  by  witticisms;  and  I  have 
usually  found  that  it  is  the  rather  dull  person  who  ap- 
pears to  be  disgusted  with  his  contemporaries  because 
they  are  not  always  strikingly  original,  and  to  satisfy 
whom  the  party  at  a  country  house  should  have  in- 
cluded the  prophet  Isaiah,  Plato,  Francis  Bacon,  and 
Voltaire.  It  is  always  your  heaviest  bore  who  is  aston- 
ished at  the  tameness  of  modern  celebrities:  naturally; 
for  a  little  of  his  company  has  reduced  them  to  a  state 
of  flaccid  fatigue.  It  is  right  and  meet  that  there 
should  be  an  abundant  utterance  of  good  sound  com- 
monplaces. Part  of  an  agi-eeable  talker's  charm  is 
that  he  lets  them  fall  continually  witli  no  more  than 
their  due  emphasis.  Givitig  a  pleasant  voice  to  what 
we  are  all  well  assured  of,  makes  a  sort  of  wholesome 
air  for  more  special  and  dubious  remark  to  move  in. 

Hence  it  seemed  to  me  far  from  unbecoming  in 
Felicia  that  in  her  first  dialogue  with  Hinze,  previous- 
ly quite  a  stranger  to  her,  her  observations  were  those 
of  an  ordinarily  refined  and  well-educated  woman  on 
standard  subjects,  and  might  have  been  printed  in  a 
manual  of  polite  topics  and  creditable  opinions.  She 
had  no  desire  to  astonish  a  man  of  whom  she  had 
heard  nothing  pai'ticular.  It  was  all  the  more  exas- 
perating to  see  and  hear  Hinze's  reception  of  her  well- 
bi'cd  conformities.     Felicia's  acquaintances  know  her 


72  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

as  the  suitable  wife  of  a  distinguislied  man,  a  sensible, 
vivacious,  kindly  disposed  woman,  helping  her  hus- 
band with  graceful  apologies  written  and  spoken,  and 
making  her  receptions  agreeable  to  all  comers.  But 
you  would  have  imagined  that  Hinze  had  been  pre- 
pared by  general  report  to  regard  this  introduction  to 
her  as  an  opportunity  comparable  to  an  audience  of 
the  Delphic  Sibyl.  When  she  had  delivered  herself 
on  the  changes  in  Italian  travel,  on  the  difficulty  of 
reading  Ariosto  in  these  busy  times,  on  the  want  of 
equilibrium  in  French  political  affairs,  and  on  the  pre- 
eminence of  German  music,  he  would  know  what  to 
think.  Felicia  was  evidently  embarrassed  by  his  rev- 
erent wonder,  and,  in  dread  lest  she  should  seem  to  be 
playing  the  oracle,  became  somewhat  confused,  stum- 
bling on  her  answ^ers  rather  than  choosing  them.  But 
this  made  no  difference  to  Ilinze's  rapt  attention  and 
snbdued  eagerness  of  inquir}-.  He  continued  to  put 
large  questions,  bending  his  head  slightly,  that  his  eyes 
nn'ght  be  a  little  lifted  in  awaiting  her  reply. 

"  "What,  may  I  ask,  is  your  opinion  as  to  the  state  of 
Art  in  England  ?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Felicia,  with  a  light  deprecatory  laugh, 
"  I  think  it  suffers  fi-om  two  diseases — bad  taste  in  the 
patrons,  and  want  of  inspiration  in  the  artists." 

"  That  is  true  indeed,"  said  Hinze,  in  an  undertone 
of  deep  conviction.  "  You  have  put  your  linger  with 
strict  accuracy  on  the  causes  of  decline.  To  a  culti- 
vated taste  like  yours  this  must  be  particularly  painful." 

"  I  did  not  say  there  was  actual  decline,"  said  Fe- 


A   TOO   DEFERENTIAL   MAN.  78 

licia,  with  a  touch  of  brnsquerie.     "I  don't  set  myself 
up  ab  the  great  personage  whom  nothing  can  please." 

"  That  would  be  too  severe  a  misfortune  for  others," 
Bays  my  complimentary  ape.  "  You  approve,  perhaps, 
of  Rosemary's  'Babes  in  the  Wood,'  as  something 
fresh  and  naive  in  sculpture  V 

"  I  think  it  enchantino'," 

"  Does  he  know  that  ?  Or  will  you  permit  me  to 
tell  him  ?" 

"  Heaven  forbid !  It  would  be  an  impertinence  in 
me  to  praise  a  work  of  his — to  pronounce  on  its  quali- 
ty ;  and  that  I  happen  to  like  it  can  be  of  no  conse- 
quence to  him." 

Here  was  an  occasion  for  Hinze  to  smile  down  on 
his  hat  and  stroke  it  —  Felicia's  ignorance  that  her 
praise  was  inestimable  being  peculiarly  noteworthy  to 
an  observer  of  mankind.  Presently  he  was  quite  sure 
that  her  favorite  author  was  Shakspeare,  and  wished 
to  know  what  she  thought  of  Hamlet's  madness. 
When  she  had  quoted  Wilhelm  Meister  on  this  point, 
and  had  afterward  testified  that  "  Lear "  was  beyond 
adequate  presentation,  that  Julius  Csesar  was  an  ef- 
fective acting  play,  and  that  a  poet  may  know  a  good 
deal  about  human  nature  while  knowing  little  of  ge- 
ography, Hinze  appeared  so  impressed  with  the  pleni- 
tude of  these  revelations  that  he  recapitulated  them, 
weaving  them  together  with  threads  of  compliment — 
"As  you  very  justly  observed;"  and — "It  is  most  true, 
as  you  say ;"  and — "  It  were  well  if  others  noted  what 
you  have  remarked." 

4 


74  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH, 

Some  listeners,  incautious  in  their  epithets,  would 
have  called  Ilinze  an  "  ass."  For  my  part,  I  would 
never  insult  that  intelligent  and  unpretending  animal, 
who  no  doubt  brays  with  perfect  simplicity  and  sub- 
stantial meaning  to  those  acquainted  with  his  idiom, 
and  if  he  feigns  more  submission  than  he  feels,  has 
weighty  reasons  for  doing  so  —  I  would  never,  I  sa}', 
insult  that  historic  and  ill-appreciated  animal,  the  ass, 
by  giving  his  name  to  a  man  whose  continuous  pre- 
tence is  so  shallow  in  its  motive,  so  unexcused  by  any 
sharp  appetite  as  this  of  Hinze's. 

But  perhaps  you  would  say  that  his  adulatory  man- 
ner was  originally  adopted  under  strong  promptings 
of  self-interest,  and  that  his  absurdly  overacted  defer- 
ence to  persons  from  whom  he  expects  no  patronage  is 
the  unreflecting  persistence  of  habit — just  as  those  who 
live  with  the  deaf  will  shout  to  everybody  else. 

And  you  might  indeed  imagine  that  in  talking  to 
Tulpian,  who  has  considerable  interest  at  his  disposal, 
Ilinze  had  a  desired  appointment  in  his  mind.  Tul- 
pian is  appealed  to  on  innumerable  subjects,  and  if  he 
is  unwilling  to  express  himself  on  any  one  of  them, 
says  so  with  instructive  copiousness :  he  is  much  listen- 
ed to,  and  his  utterances  are  registered  and  reported 
with  more  or  less  exactitude.  But  I  think  he  has  no 
other  listener  who  comports  himself  as  Hinze  does — 
who,  figuratively  speaking,  carries  about  a  small  spoon 
ready  to  pick  up  any  dusty  crumb  of  opinion  that 
the  eloquent  man  may  have  let  drop.  Tulpian,  with 
reverence  be  it  said,  has  some  rather  absurd  notions, 


A  TOO  DEFEKENTIAL   MAN.  75 

such  as  a  mind  of  large  discourse  often  finds  room 
for :  they  slip  about  among  his  higher  conceptions  and 
multitudinous  acquirements  like  disreputable  charac- 
ters at  a  national  celebration  in  some  vast  cathedral, 
where  to  the  ardent  soul  all  is  glorified  by  rainbow 
light  and  grand  associations :  any  vulgar  detective 
knows  them  for  what  they  are.  But  Hinze  is  espe- 
cially fervid  in  his  desire  to  hear  Tulpian  dilate  on  his 
crotchets,  and  is  rather  troublesome  to  by-standers  in 
asking  them  whether  they  have  read  the  various  fugi- 
tive writings  in  which  these  crotchets  have  been  pub- 
lished. If  an  expert  is  explaining  some  matter  on 
which  you  desire  to  know  the  evidence,  Hinze  teazes 
you  with  Tulpian's  guesses,  and  asks  the  expert  wliat 
he  thinks  of  them. 

In  general,  Hinze  delights  in  the  citation  of  opin- 
ions, and  would  hardly  remark  that  the  sun  shone  with- 
out an  air  of  respectful  appeal  or  fervid  adhesion. 
The  "  Iliad,"  one  sees,  would  impress  him  little  if  it 
were  not  for  what  Mr.  Fugleman  has  lately  said  about 
it;  and  if  you  mention  an  image  or  sentiment  in 
Chaucer  he  seems  not  to  heed  the  bearing  of  your 
reference,  but  immediately  tells  you  that  Mr.  Hautboy, 
too,  regards  Chaucer  as  a  poet  of  the  first  order,  and 
he  is  delighted  to  find  that  two  such  judges  as  you 
and  Hautboy  are  at  one. 

What  is  the  reason  of  all  this  subdued  ecstasy,  mov- 
ing about,  hat  in  hand,  with  well-dressed  hair  and  at- 
titudes of  unimpeachable  correctness?  Some  persons 
conscious  of  sagacity  decide  at  once  that  Hinze  knows 


76  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

what  he  is  about  in  flattering  Tnlpian,  and  has  a  care- 
fully appraised  end  to  serve,  though  they  may  not  see 
it.  They  are  misled  by  the  common  mistake  of  sup- 
posing that  men's  behavior,  whether  habitual  or  occa- 
sional, is  chiefly  determined  by  a  distinctly  conceived 
motive,  a  definite  object  to  be  gained  or  a  definite  evil 
to  be  avoided.  The  truth  is,  that,  the  primitive  wants 
of  nature  once  tolerably  satisfied,  the  majority  of  man- 
kind, even  in  a  civilized  life  full  of  solicitations,  are 
with  difficulty  aroused  to  the  distinct  conception  of  an 
object  toward  which  they  Avill  direct  their  actions  M'ith 
careful  adaptation,  and  it  is  yet  rarer  to  find  one  who 
can  persist  in  the  systematic  pursuit  of  such  an  end. 
Few  lives  are  shaped,  few  characters  formed,  by  the 
contemplation  of  definite  consequences  seen  from  a 
distance  and  made  the  goal  of  continuous  effort  or  the 
beacon  of  a  constantly  avoided  danger:  such  control 
by  foresight,  such  vivid  picturing  and  practical  logic, 
are  the  distinction  of  exceptionally  strong  natures;  but 
society  is  chiefly  made  up  of  human  beings  whose  daily 
acts  are  all  performed  either  in  unreflecting  obedience 
to  custom  and  routine,  or  from  immediate  promptings 
of  thought  or  feeling  to  execute  an  immediate  purpose. 
They  pay  their  poor-rates,  give  their  vote  in  affaii-s  po- 
litical or  parochial,  wear  a  certain  amount  of  starch, 
hinder  boys  from  tormenting  the  helpless,  and  spend 
money  on  tedious  observances  called  pleasures,  without 
mentally  adjusting  these  practices  to  their  own  well- 
understood  interest,  or  to  the  general,  ultimate  welfare 
of  the  human  race ;  and  when  they  fall  into  ungrace- 


A  TOO   DEFERENTIAL   MAK  77 

ful  compliment,  excessive  smiling,  or  other  luckless  ef- 
forts of  complaisant  behavior,  these  are  but  the  tricks 
or  habits  gradually  formed  under  the  successive  prompt- 
ings of  a  wish  to  be  agreeable,  stimulated  day  by  day 
without  any  widening  resources  for  gratifying  the 
wish.  It  does  not  in  the  least  follow  that  they  are 
seeking  by  studied  hypocrisy  to  get  something  for 
themselves.  And  so  with  Hinze's  defei'ential  bearing, 
complhnentary  parentheses,  and  worshipful  tones,  which 
seem  to  some  like  the  overacting  of  a  part  in  a  come- 
dy. He  expects  no  appointment  or  other  appreciable 
gain  through  Tulpian's  favor;  he  has  no  doubleness 
toward  Felicia ;  there  is  no  sneering  or  backbiting  ob- 
verse to  his  ecstatic  admiration.  He  is  very  well  off 
in  the  world,  and  cherishes  no  unsatisfied  ambition  that 
could  feed  design  and  direct  flattery.  As  you  perceive, 
he  has  had  the  education  and  other  advantages  of  a 
gentleman  without  being  conscious  of  marked  result, 
such  as  a  decided  preference  for  any  particular  ideas 
or  functions :  his  mind  is  furnished  as  hotels  are,  with 
everything  for  occasional  and  transient  use.  But  one 
cannot  be  an  Englishman  and  gentleman  in  general : 
it  is  in  the  nature  of  thino-s  that  one  must  have  an  indi- 
viduality,  though  it  may  be  of  an  often-repeated  type. 
As  Hinze  in  growing  to  maturity  had  grown  into  a  par- 
ticular form  and  expression  of  person,  so  he  necessarily 
gathered  a  manner  and  frame  of  speech  which  made 
him  additionally  recognizable.  His  nature  is  not  tuned 
to  the  pitch  of  a  genuine  direct  admiration,  only  to 
an  attitudinizing  deference  which  does  not  fatigue  it- 


78  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

self  with  the  formation  of  real  judgments.  All  human 
acliievement  must  be  wrought  down  to  this  spoon-meat 
■ — this  mixture  of  other  persons'  washy  opinions  and 
his  own  flux  of  reverence  for  what  is  third-hand,  before 
Hinze  can  find  a  relish  for  it. 

He  has  no  more  leading  characteristic  than  the  de- 
sire to  stand  well  with  those  who  are  justly  distinguish- 
ed; he  has  no  base  admirations,  and  you  may  know 
by  his  entii-e  presentation  of  himself,  from  the  man- 
agement of  his  hat  to  the  angle  at  which  he  keeps  his 
right  foot,  that  he  aspires  to  correctness.  Desiring  to 
behave  becomingly,  and  also  to  make  a  figure  in  dia- 
logue, he  is  only  like  the  bad  artist  whose  picture  is  a 
failui'e.  We  may  pity  these  ill-gifted  strivers,  but  not 
pretend  that  their  works  are  pleasant  to  behold.  A 
man  is  bound  to  know  somethino;  of  his  own  weight 
and  muscular  dexterity,  and  the  puny  athlete  is  called 
foolish  before  he  is  seen  to  be  thrown.  Hinze  has  not 
the  stuff  in  him  to  be  at  once  agreeably  conversation- 
al and  sincere,  and  he  has  got  himself  up  to  be  at  all 
events  agreeably  conversational.  Notwithstanding  this 
deliberateness  of  intention  in  his  talk  he  is  unconscious 
of  falsity,  for  he  has  not  enough  of  deep  and  lasting 
impression  to  find  a  contrast  or  diversity  between  his 
words  and  his  thoughts.  He  is  not  fairly  to  be  called 
a  hypocrite,  but  I  have  already  confessed  to  the  more 
exasperation  at  his  make-believe  reverence,  because  it 
has  no  deep  hunger  to  excuse  it. 


ONLY  TEMPER.  79 


yi. 

ONLY  TEMPER. 

What  is  temper  ?  Its  primary  meaning,  the  propor- 
tion and  mode  in  which  qualities  are  mingled,  is  much 
neglected  in  popular  speech,  yet  even  here  the  word 
often  carries  a  reference  to  an  habitual  state  or  general 
tendency  of  the  organism,  in  distinction  from  what  are 
held  to  be  specific  virtues  and  vices.  As  people  con- 
fess to  bad  memory  without  expecting  to  sink  in  men- 
tal reputation,  so  we  hear  a  man  declared  to  have  a 
bad  temper,  and  yet  glorified  as  the  possessor  of  every 
high  quality.  When  he  errs  or  in  any  way  commits 
himself,  his  temper  is  accused,  not  his  character,  and  it 
is  understood  that  but  for  a  brutal  bearish  mood  he  is 
kindness  itself.  If  he  kicks  small  animals,  swears  vio- 
lently at  a  servant  who  mistakes  orders,  or  is  grossly 
rude  to  his  wife,  it  is  remarked  apologetically  that 
these  things  mean  nothing — they  are  all  temper. 

Certainly  there  is  a  limit  to  this  form  of  apology, 
and  the  forgery  of  a  bill,  or  the  ordering  of  goods 
without  any  prospect  of  paying  for  tliem,  has  never 
been  set  down  to  an  unfortunate  habit  of  sulkiness  or 
of  irascibility.  But,  on  the  whole,  there  is  a  peculiar 
exercise  of  indulgence  toward  the  manifestations  of 


80  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

bad  temper  wliich  tends  to  encourage  them,  so  that  we 
jire  in  danger  of  having  among  us  a  number  of  virtu- 
ous persons  who  conduct  themselves  detestably,  just  as 
we  have  hysterical  patients  who,  with  sound  organs,  are 
apparently  laboring  under  many  sorts  of  organic  dis- 
ease. Let  it  be  admitted,  however,  that  a  man  may  be 
"  a  good  fellow  "  and  yet  have  a  bad  temper,  so  bad 
that  we  recognize  his  merits  with  reluctance,  and  are 
inclined  to  resent  his  occasionally  amiable  behavior 
as  an  unfair  demand  on  our  admiration. 

Touchwood  is  that  kind  of  good  fellow.  He  is  by 
turns  insolent,  quarrelsome,  repulsively  haughty  to  in- 
nocent people  who  approach  him  with  respect,  neglect- 
ful of  his  friends,  angry  in  face  of  legitimate  demands, 
procrastinating  in  the  fulfilment  of  such  demands, 
prompted  to  rude  M'ords  and  harsh  looks  by  a  moody 
disgust  with  his  fellow -men  in  general  —  and  yet,  as 
everybody  will  assure  you,  the  soul  of  honor,  a  stead- 
fast fi'iend,  a  defender  of  the  opj^ressed,  an  affectionate- 
hearted  creature.  Pity  that,  after  a  certain  experience 
of  his  moods,  his  intimacy  becomes  insupportable  !  A 
man  who  uses  his  bal morals  to  tread  on  your  toes  with 
much  frequency  and  an  unmistakable  emphasis,  may 
prove  a  fast  friend  in  adversity,  but  meanwhile  your 
adversity  has  not  arrived,  and  3'our  toes  are  tender. 
The  daily  sneer  or  growl  at  your  remarks  is  not  to  be 
made  amends  for  by  a  possible  eulog}',  or  defence  of 
your  understandiug  against  depreciators  who  may  not 
pi-esent  themselves,  and  on  an  occasion  which  may  nev- 
er arise.     I  cannot  submit  to  a  chronic  state  of  blue 


ONLY   TEMPER.  81 

and  green  bruise  as  a  form  of  insurance  against  an  ac- 
cident. 

Touchwood's  bad  temper  is  of  the  contradicting,  pug- 
nacious sort.  He  is  the  honorable  gentleman  in  opposi-" 
tion,  wliatever  proposal  or  proposition  may  be  broached, 
and  when  others  join  him  he  secretly  damns  their  su- 
perfluous agreement,  quickly  discovering  that  his  way 
of  stating  the  case  is  not  exactly  theirs.  An  invitation 
or  any  sign  of  expectation  throws  him  into  an  attitude 
of  refusal.  Ask  his  concurrence  in  a  benevolent  meas- 
ure ;  he  will  not  decline  to  give  it,  because  he  has  a 
real  sympathy  with  good  aims;  but  he  complies  resent- 
fully, though  where  he  is  let  alone  he  will  do  much 
more  than  any  one  would  have  thought  of  asking  for. 
!N"o  man  would  shrink  with  greater  sensitiveness  from 
tlie  imputation  of  not  paying  his  debts,  yet  when  a  bill 
is  sent  in  with  any  promptitude  he  is  inclined  to  make 
the  tradesman  wait  for  the  money  he  is  in  such  a  liurry 
to  get.  One  sees  that  this  antagonistic  temper  must  be 
much  relieved  by  finding  a  particular  object,  and  that 
its  worst  moments  must  be  those  where  the  mood  is 
that  of  vague  resistance,  there  being  nothing  specific 
to  oppose.  Touchwood  is  never  so  little  engaging  as 
when  he  comes  down  to  breakfast  with  a  cloud  on  his 
brow,  after  parting  from  you  the  niglit  before  witli  an 
affectionate  effusiveness,  at  the  end  of  a  confidential 
conversation,  which  has  assured  you  of  mutual  under- 
standing. Impossible  that  you  can  have  committed 
any  offence.  If  mice  have  disturbed  him,  that  is  not 
your  fault ;   but,  nevertheless,  your  cheerful  greeting 

4* 


82  TIIEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

had  better  not  convey  any  reference  to  the  weather, 
else  it  will  be  met  by  a  sneer  which,  taking  you  nna- 
"wares,  may  give  you  a  crushing  sense  that  you  make 
a  poor  figure  with  your  cheerfulness,  which  was  not 
asked  for.  Some  daring  person  perhaps  introduces  an- 
other topic,  and  uses  the  delicate  flattery  of  appealing 
to  Touchwood  for  his  opinion,  the  topic  being  included 
in  his  favorite  studies.  An  indistinct  muttering,  with 
a  look  at  the  carving-knife  in  reply,  teaches  that  daring 
person  how  ill  he  has  chosen  a  market  for  his  defer- 
ence. If  Touchwood's  behavior  affects  you  very  close- 
1}",  you  had  better  break  your  leg  in  the  course  of  the 
day :  his  bad  temper  will  then  vanish  at  once  ;  he  will 
take  a  painful  journey  on  your  behalf ;  he  will  sit  up 
with  you  night  after  night ;  he  will  do  all  the  work  of 
your  department,  so  as  to  save  you  from  any  loss  in 
consequence  of  your  accident ;  he  will  be  even  uni- 
formly tender  to  you  till  you  are  well  on  your  legs 
again,  when  he  will  some  fine  morning  insult  you  with- 
out provocation,  and  make  you  wish  that  his  generous 
goodness  to  you  had  not  closed  j'our  lips  against  retort. 
It  is  not  always  necessary  that  a  friend  should  break 
his  leg  for  Touchwood  to  feel  compunction,  and  en- 
deavor to  make  amends  for  his  bearishness  or  inso- 
lence. He  becomes  spontaneously  conscious  that  he 
has  misbehaved,  and  he  is  not  onlj''  ashamed  of  him- 
self, but  has  the  better  prompting  to  try  and  heal  any 
wonnd  he  has  inflicted.  Unhappily  the  habit  of  being 
offensive  "  without  meaning  it"  leads  usually  to  a  way 
of  making  amends  which  the  injured  person  cannot 


ONLY   TEMPER.  83 

but  regard  as  a  being  amiable  without  meaning  it. 
The  kindnesses,  the  complimentary  indications  or  as- 
surances, are  apt  to  appear  in  the  light  of  a  penance 
adjusted  to  the  foregoing  lapses,  and  by  the  very  con- 
trast they  offer  call  up  a  keener  memory  of  the  wrong 
they  atone  for.  They  are  not  a  spontaneous  prompting 
of  good-will,  but  an  elaborate  compensation.  And,  in 
fact,  Dion's  atoning  friendliness  has  a  ring  of  artifi- 
ciality.  Because  he  formerly  disguised  his  good  feel- 
ing toward  you,  he  now  expresses  more  tlian  he  quite 
feels.  It  is  in  vain.  Having  made  you  extremely  un- 
comfortable last  week,  he  has  absolutely  diminished 
his  power  of  making  you  happy  to-day.  lie  struggles 
against  this  result  by  excessive  effort,  but  he  has  tauglit 
you  to  observe  his  fitfulness  rather  than  to  be  warmed 
by  his  episodic  show  of  regard. 

I  suspect  that  many  persons  who  have  an  uncertain, 
incalculable  temper,  flatter  themselves  that  it  enhances 
their  fascination ;  but  perhaps  thej^  are  under  the  prior 
mistake  of  exaggerating  tlie  charm  which  they  suppose 
to  be  thus  strengthened ;  in  an}-  case  tliey  will  do  well 
not  to  trust  in  the  attractions  of  caprice  and  moodi- 
ness for  a  long  continuance  or  for  close  intercourse.  A 
pretty  woman  may  fan  the  flame  of  distant  adorers  by 
harassing  them,  but  if  she  lets  one  of  them  make  her 
his  wife,  the  point  of  view  from  wliich  he  will  look  at 
lier  poutings  and  tossings,  and  mysterious  inability  to 
be  pleased,  will  be  seriously  altered.  And  if  slavery 
to  a  pretty  woman,  which  seems  among  the  least  con- 
ditional forms  of  abject  service,  will  not  bear  too  great 


84  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

a  strain  from  her  Lad  temper,  even  though  her  beauty 
remain  the  same,  it  is  clear  tliat  a  man  whose  claims 
lie  in  his  high  character  or  higli  performances  had 
need  impress  us  very  constantly  with  his  peculiar  value 
and  indispensableness,  if  he  is  to  test  our  patience  by 
an  uncertainty  of  temper  which  leaves  us  absolutely 
without  grounds  for  guessing  how  he  will  receive  our 
persons  or  humbly  advanced  opinions,  or  what  hue  he 
will  take  on  any  but  the  most  momentous  occasions. 

For  it  is  among  the  repulsive  effects  of  this  bad  tem- 
per, which  is  supposed  to  be  compatible  with  shining 
virtues,  that  it  is  apt  to  determine  a  man's  sudden  ad- 
hesion to  an  opinion,  whether  on  a  personal  or  imper- 
sonal matter,  without  leaving  him  time  to  consider  his 
grounds.  The  adliesion  is  sudden  and  momentary,  but 
it  either  forms  a  precedent  for  his  line  of  thouglit  and 
action,  or  it  is  presently  seen  to  have  been  inconsistent 
with  his  true  mind.  This  determination  of  partisan- 
ship by  temper  has  its  worst  effects  in  the  career  of  the 
public  man,  who  is  always  in  danger  of  getting  so  en- 
thralled by  his  own  words  that  he  looks  into  facts  and 
questions  not  to  get  rectifying  knowledge,  but  to  get 
evidence  that  will  justify  his  actual  attitude, which  was 
assumed  under  an  impulse  dependent  on  something 
else  than  knowledge.  There  has  been  plenty  of  insist- 
ance  on  the  evil  of  swearing  by  the  words  of  a  mas 
ter,  and  having  the  judgment  uniformly  controlled  by 
a  "  He  said  it;"  but  a  much  worse  woe  to  befall  a  man 
is  to  have  every  judgment  controlled  by  an  "  I  said  it" — 
to  make  a  divinity  of  his  own  short-sightedness  or  pas- 


ONLY  TEMPER.  8o 

sioii-led  aberration,  and  explain  the  world  in  its  honor. 
There  is  hardly  a  more  pitiable  degradation  than  thia 
for  a  man  of  high  gifts.  Hence  I  cannot  join  with 
those  who  wish  that  Touchwood,  being  young  enough  to 
enter  on  public  life,  should  get  elected  for  Parliament, 
and  use  his  excellent  abilities  to  serve  his  country  in 
that  conspicuous  manner.  For  hitherto,  in  the  less 
momentous  incidents  of  pri\ate  life,  his  capricious 
temper  has  only  produced  the  minor  evil  of  inconsist- 
ency, and  he  is  even  greatly  at  ease  in  contradicting 
himself,  .provided  he  can  contradict  you,  and  disap- 
point any  smiling  expectation  you  may  have  shown 
that  the  impressions  you  are  nttering  are  likely  to 
meet  with  his  sympathy,  considering  that  the  day  be- 
fore he  himself  gave  you  the  example  which  your 
mind  is  following.  He  is  at  least  free  from  those  fet- 
ters of  self-justification  which  are  the  curse  of  parlia- 
mentary speaking ;  and  what  I  rather  desire  for  him  is 
that  he  should  produce  the  great  book  which  he  is  gen- 
erally pronounced  capable  of  writing,  and  put  his  best 
self  imperturbably  on  record  for  the  advantage  of  so- 
ciety ;  because  I  should  then  have  steady  ground  fur 
bearing  with  his  diurnal  incalculableness,  and  could  fix 
my  gratitude  as  by  a  strong  staple  to  that  unvarying 
monumental  service.  Unhappily,  Touchwood's  great 
powers  have  been  only  so  far  manifested  as  to  be  be- 
lieved in,  not  demonstrated.  Everybody  rates  thetn 
highly,  and  thinks  that  whatever  he  chose  to  do  would 
be  done  in  a  first-rate  manner.  Is  it  his  love  of  disap- 
pointing complacent  expectancy  which  has  gone  so  far 


80  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

as  to  keep  up  this  lamentable  negation,  and  made  him 
resolve  not  to  wiite  the  comprehensive  work  which  he 
would  have  written  if  nobody  had  expected  it  of  him? 

One  can  see  tliat  if  Touchwood  were  to  become  a 
public  man,  and  take  to  frequent  speaking  on  plat- 
forms or  from  his  seat  in  the  House,  it  would  hardly 
be  possible  for  him  to  maintain  much  integrity  of 
opinion,  or  to  avoid  courses  of  partisanship  which  a 
healthy  public  sentiment  would  stamp  with  discredit. 
Say  that  he  M'erc  endowed  with  the  purest  honesty,  it 
would  inevitably  be  dragged  captive  by  this  myste- 
rious, Protean  bad  temper.  There  would  be  the  fatal 
public  necessity  of  justifying  oratorical  Temper  which 
had  got  on  its  leers  in  its  bitter  mood  and  made  insult- 
ing  imputations,  or  of  keeping  up  some  decent  show  of 
consistency  with  opinions  vented  out  of  Temper's  con- 
tradictoriness.  And  words  would  have  to  be  followed 
up  by  acts  of  adhesion. 

Certainly,  if  a  bad-tempered  man  can  be  admirably 
virtuous,  he  must  be  so  under  extreme  difficulties.  I 
doubt  the  possibility  that  a  high  order  of  character  can 
coexist  with  a  temper  like  Touchwood's.  For  it  is  of 
the  nature  of  sucli  temper  to  interrupt  the  formation 
of  liealthy  mental  habits,  which  depend  on  a  growing 
harmony  between  perception,  conviction,  and  impulse. 
There  may  be  good  feelings,  good  deeds— for  a  human 
nature  may  pack  endless  varieties  and  blessed  incon- 
sistencies in  its  windings  — but  it  is  essential  to  what 
is  worthy  to  be  called  high  character,  tliat  it  may  be 
Fafely  calcuhitcd  on,  and  that  its  qualities  shall  have 


ONLY   TEMPER.  87 

taken  the  form  of  principles  or  laws  habitually,  if  not 
perfectly,  obeyed. 

If  a  man  frequently  passes  unjust  judgments,  takes 
up  false  attitudes,  intermits  his  acts  of  kindness  with 
rude  behavior  or  cruel  words,  and  falls  into  the  con- 
sequent vulgar  error  of  supposing  that  he  can  make 
amends  by  labored  agreeableness,  I  cannot  consider 
such  courses  any  the  less  ugly  because  they  are  as- 
cribed to  "  temper."  Especially  1  object  to  the  as- 
sumption that  his  having  a  fundamentally  good  dis- 
position is  either  an  apology  or  a  conii)ensation  for  his 
bad  behavior.  If  his  temper  yesterdiiy  made  him  lash 
the  horses,  upset  the  curricle,  and  cause  a  breakage  in 
my  rib,  I  feel  it  no  compensation  that  to-day  he  vows 
he  will  drive  me  anywhere  in  the  gentlest  manner  any 
day  as  long  as  he  lives.  Yesterday  was  what  it  was — 
my  rib  is  paining  me — it  is  not  a  main  object  of  my 
life  to  be  driven  by  Touchwood,  and  I  have  no  con- 
fidence in  his  life-long  gentleness.  The  utmost  form 
of  placability  I  am  capable  of  is  to  try  and  remember 
his  better  deeds  already  performed,  and,  mindful  of  my 
own  offences,  to  bear  him  no  malice.  But  I  cannot  ac- 
cept his  amends. 

If  the  bad-tempered  man  wants  to  apologize,  he  had 
need  to  do  it  on  a  large  public  scale — make  some  be- 
neficent discovery,  produce  some  stimulating  work  of 
genius,  invent  some  powerful  process — prove  himself 
such  a  good  to  contemporary  multitudes  and  future 
generations  as  to  make  the  discomfort  he  causes  his 
friends  and  acquaintances  a  vanishing  quality,  a  trifie 
even  in  \he\v  own  osli::^.atc. 


88  THEOPHKASTUS  SUCH. 


VII. 

A  POLITICAL   MOLECULE. 

The  most  arrant  denier  must  admit  that  a  man  often 
furthers  larger  ends  than  he  is  conscious  of,  and  that 
while  he  is  transacting  his  particular  affairs  with  the 
narrow  pertinacity  of  a  respectable  ant,  he  subserves 
an  economy  larger  than  any  purpose  of  his  own.  So- 
ciety is  happily  not  dependent  for  the  growth  of  fel- 
lowship on  the  small  minority  already  endowed  with 
comprehensive  sympathy.  Any  molecule  of  the  body 
politic,  working  toward  his  own  interest  in  an  orderly 
way,  gets  his  understanding  more  or  less  penetrated 
with  the  fact  that  his  interest  is  included  in  that  of  a 
large  number.  I  have  watched  several  political  mole- 
cules being  educated  in  this  way  by  the  nature  of  things 
into  a  faint  feeling  of  fraternity.  But  at  this  moment 
I  am  thinking  of  Spike,  an  elector  who  voted  on  the 
side  of  Progress,  though  he  Avas  not  inwardly  attached 
to  it  under  that  name.  For  abstractions  are  deities 
having  many  specific  names,  local  habitations,  and 
forms  of  activity,  and  so  get  a  multitude  of  devout  ser- 
vants, who  care  no  more  for  them  nnder  their  highest 
titles  than  the  celebrated  person  who,  putting  with  for- 
cible brevity  a  view  of  human  motives  now  much  in- 
sisted on,  asked  what  Posterity  had  done  for  him  that 


A   POLITICAL   MOLECULE.  89 

lie  should  care  for  Posterity  ?  To  many  minds,  even 
among  the  ancients  (thought  by  some  to  have  been  in- 
variably poetical),  the  goddess  of  wisdom  was  doubtless 
worshipped  simply  as  the  patroness  of  spinning  and 
weaving.  Now  spinning  and  weaving,  from  a  manu- 
facturing, wholesale  point  of  view,  was  the  chief  form 
under  which  Spike  from  early  years  had  unconsciously 
been  a  devotee  of  Progress. 

He  was  a  political  molecule  of  the  most  gentleman- 
like appearance,  not  less  than  six  feet  high,  and  show- 
ing the  utmost  nicety  in  the  care  of  his  person  and 
equipment.  His  umbrella  was  especially  remarkable 
for  its  neatness,  though  perhaps  he  swung  it  unduly  in 
walking.  His  complexion  was  fresh,  his  eyes  small, 
bi'ight,  and  twinkling.  He  was  seen  to  great  advantage 
in  a  hat  and  great-coat— garments  frequently  fatal  to 
the  impressiveness  of  shorter  figures ;  but  when  he  was 
uncovered  in  the  drawing-room,  it  was  impossible  not 
to  observe  that  his  head  shelved  off  too  rapidly  from 
the  eyebrows  toward  the  crown,  and  that  his  length  of 
limb  seemed  to  have  used  up  his  mind  so  as  to  cause 
an  air  of  abstraction  from  conversational  topics.  He 
appeared,  indeed,  to  be  preoccupied  with  a  sense  of  his 
exquisite  cleanliness,  clapped  his  hands  together  and 
rubbed  them  frequently,  straightened  his  back,  and 
even  opened  his  mouth  and  closed  it  again  with  a  slight 
snap,  apparently  for  no  other  purpose  than  the  confir- 
mation to  himself  of  his  own  powers  in  that  line.  These 
are  innocent  exercises,  but  they  are  not  such  as  give 
weight  to   a   man's  personality.      Sometimes    Spike's 


90  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

mind,  emerging  from  its  preoccupation,  burst  forth  in 
a  remark  delivered  with  smiling  zest — as,  that  he  did 
like  to  see  gravel -walks  well  rolled,  or  that  a  lady 
should  always  wear  the  best  jewellery,  or  that  a  bride 
was  a  most  interesting  object ;  but  finding  these  ideas 
received  rather  coldly,  he  would  relapse  into  abstrac- 
tion, draw  up  his  back,  wrinkle  his  brows  longitudinal- 
ly, and  seem  to  regard  society,  even  including  gravel- 
walks,  jewellery,  and  brides,  as  essentially  a  poor  affair. 
Indeed,  his  habit  of  mind  was  desponding,  and  he  took 
melancholy  views  as  to  the  possible  extent  of  human 
pleasure  and  the  value  of  existence ;  especially  after 
he  had  made  his  fortune  in  the  cotton  manufacture, 
and  had  thus  attained  the  chief  object  of  his  ambi- 
tion— the  object  which  had  engaged  his  talent  for  or- 
der and  persevering  application — for  his  easy  leisure 
caused  him  much  ennui.  He  was  abstemious,  and  had 
none  of  those  temptations  to  sensual  excess  which  fill 
up  a  man's  time,  first  with  indulgence  and  then  with 
the  process  of  getting  well  from  its  effects.  He  had 
not,  indeed,  exhausted  the  sources  of  knowledge,  but 
here  again  his  notions  of  human  pleasure  were  narrow- 
ed by  his  want  of  appetite ;  for  though  he  seemed  rath- 
er surprised  at  the  consideration  that  Alfred  the  Great 
was  a  Catholic,  or  that,  apart  from  the  Ten  Command- 
ments, any  conception  of  moral  conduct  had  occurred 
to  mankind,  he  was  not  stimulated  to  further  inquiries 
on  these  remote  matters.  Yet  he  aspired  to  what  lie 
regarded  as  intellectual  society,  willingly  entertained 
beneficed  clergymen,  and  bought  the  books  he  heard 


A   POLITICAL   MOLECULE.  91 

spoken  of,  arranging  them  carefully  on  the  shelves 
of  what  he  called  his  library,  and  occasionally  sitting 
alone  in  the  same  room  with  them.  But  some  minds 
seem  well  glazed  by  nature  against  the  admission  of 
knowledge,  and  Spike's  was  one  of  them.  It  was 
not,  however,  entirely  so  with  regard  to  politics.  lie 
had  had  a  strong  opinion  about  the  Reform  Bill,  and 
saw  clearly  that  the  large  trading  towns  ought  to 
send  members.  Portraits  of  the  Reform  heroes  hung 
framed  and  glazed  in  his  library :  he  prided  himself 
on  being  a  Liberal.  In  this  last  particular,  as  well  as 
in  not  giving  benefactions  and  not  making  loans  with- 
out interest,  he  showed  unquestionable  firmness.  On 
the  Repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws,  again,  he  was  thoroughly 
convinced.  Llis  mind  was  expansive  toward  foreign 
markets,  and  his  imagination  could  see  that  the  people 
from  whom  we  took  corn  might  be  able  to  take  the 
cotton  goods  which  they  had  hitherto  dispensed  with. 
On  his  conduct  in  these  political  concerns,  his  wife, 
otherwise  influential  as  a  woman  who  belonged  to  a 
family  with  a  title  in  it,  and  who  had  condescended  in 
marrying  him,  could  gain  no  hold :  she  had  to  blush 
a  little  at  what  was  called  her  husband's  "  radicalism  " 
' — an  epithet  which  was  a  very  unfair  impeachment 
of  Spike,  who  never  went  to  the  root  of  anything. 
But  he  understood  his  own  trading  affairs,  and  in  this 
way  became  a  genuine,  constant  political  element.  If 
he  had  been  born  a  little  later  he  could  have  been 
accepted  as  an  eligible  member  of  Parliament,  and  if 
he  had  belonged  to  a  high  family  he  might  have  done 


92  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

for  a  member  of  the  Government.  Perhaps  his  indif- 
ference to  "views"  would  have  passed  for  administra- 
tive judiciousness,  and  he  would  have  been  so  gen- 
erally silent  that  he  must  often  have  been  silent  in  the 
right  place.  But  this  is  empty  speculation :  there  is 
no  warrant  for  saying  what  S[)ike  would  have  been 
and  known,  so  as  to  have  made  a  calculable  political 
element,  if  he  had  not  been  educated  by  having  to 
manage  his  trade.  A  small  mind  trained  to  useful 
occupation  for  the  satisfying  of  private  need,  becomes 
a  representative  of  genuine  class-needs.  Spike  objected  • 
to  certain  items  of  legislation  because  they  hampered 
his  own  trade,  but  his  neighbors'  trade  was  hampered 
by  the  same  causes;  and  though  he  would  have  been 
simply  selfish  in  a  question  of  light  or  water  between 
himself  and  a  fellow-townsman,  his  need  for  a  change 
in  legislation,  being  shared  by  all  his  neighbors  in 
trade,  ceased  to  be  simply  selfish,  and  raised  him  to  a 
sense  of  common  injury  and  common  benefit.  True, 
if  the  law  could  have  been  changed  for  the  benefit  of 
his  particular  business,  leaving  the  cotton  trade  in  gen- 
eral in  a  sorry  condition  while  he  prospered,  Spike 
might  not  have  thought  that  result  hitolerably  unjust; 
but  the  nature  of  thino;s  did  not  allow  of  such  a  result 
being  contemplated  as  possible;  it  allowed  of  an  en- 
larged market  for  Spike  only  through  the  enlargement 
of  his  neighbors'  market,  and  the  Possible  is  always 
the  ultimate  master  of  our  efforts  and  desires.  Spike 
was  obliged  to  contemplate  a  general  benefit,  and  thus 
became  public-spirited  in  spite  of  himself.     Or  rather, 


A   POLITICAL   MOLECULE.  93 

the  uature  of  things  traiismnted  his  active  egoism  into 
a  demand  for  a  pubhc  benefit. 

Certainl}',  if  Spike  had  been  born  a  marquis,  he  could 
not  have  had  the  same  chance  ot  being  useful  as  a 
political  element.  But  he  might  have  had  the  same 
appearance,  have  been  equally  null  in  conversation, 
sceptical  as  to  the  realit}'  of  pleasure,  and  destitute  of 
historical  knowledge  —  perhaps  even  dimly  disliking 
Jesuitism  as  a  quality  in  Catholic  minds,  or  regarding 
Bacon  as  the  inventor  of  physical  science.  The  depths 
of  middle-aged  g-entlemen's  io-norance  will  never  be 
known,  for  want  of  public  examinations  in  this  branch. 


94  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 


VIII. 

THE  WATCH-DOG  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

MoKDAX  is  an  admirable  man,  ardent  in  intellectual 
work,  public-spirited,  affectionate,  and  able  to  find  the 
right  words  in  conveying  ingenious  ideas  or  elevated 
feeling.  Pity  that  to  all  these  graces  he  cannot  add 
what  would  give  them  the  utmost  finish  —  the  occa- 
sional admission  that  he  has  been  in  the  wrong,  the 
occasional  frank  welcome  of  a  new  idea  as  somethine: 
not  before  present  to  his  mind!  But  no:  Mordax's 
self-respect  seems  to  be  of  that  fiery  quality  which  de- 
mands that  none  but  the  monarchs  of  thought  shall 
have  an  advantage  over  him,  and  in  the  presence  of 
contradiction,  or  the  threat  of  having  his  notions  cor- 
rected, he  becomes  astonishingly  unscrupulous  and  cruel 
for  so  kindly  and  conscientious  a  man. 

"  You  are  fond  of  attributing  those  fine  qualities  to 
Mordax,"  said  Acer,  the  other  day,  "  but  I  have  not 
mucli  belief  in  virtues  that  are  always  requiring  to  be 
asserted,  in  spite  of  appearances  against  them.  True 
fairness  and  good-will  show  themselves  precisely  where 
his  are  conspicuously  absent  —  I  mean,  in  recognizing 
claims  which  the  rest  of  the  world  are  not  likely  to 
stand  up  for.  It  does  not  need  much  love  of  truth 
and  justice  in  me  to  say  that  Aldebaran  is  a  bright 


THE   WATCH-DOG   OF   KNOWLEDGE.  95 

Star,  or  Isaac  Xewton  the  greatest  of  discoverers ;  or 
much  kindliness  in  me  to  want  my  notes  to  be  heard 
above  the  rest  in  a  chorus  of  hallehijahs  to  one  ah'eady 
crowned.  It  is  my  way  to  apply  tests.  Does  the  man 
who  has  the  ear  of  the  public  use  his  advantage  ten- 
derly toward  poor  fellows  who  may  be  hindered  of 
their  due  if  he  treats  their  pretensions  with  scorn  ? 
That  is  my  test  of  his  justice  and  benevolence." 

My  answer  was,  that  his  system  of  moral  tests  might 
be  as  delusive  as  what  ignorant  people  take  to  be  tests 
of  intellect  and  learning.  If  the  scholar  or  savant  can- 
not answer  their  haphazard  questions  on  the  shortest 
notice,  their  belief  in  his  capacity  is  shaken.  But  the 
better -informed  have  given  up  the  Johnsonian  theory 
of  mind  as  a  pair  of  legs  able  to  walk  east  or  west  ac- 
cording to  choice.  Intellect  is  no  longer  taken  to  be 
a  ready-made  dose  of  ability  to  attain  eminence  (or 
mediocrity)  in  all  departments ;  it  is  even  admitted 
that  application  in  one  line  of  study  or  practice  has 
often  a  laming  effect  in  other  directions,  and  that  an 
intellectual  quality  or  special  facility  which  is  a  fur- 
therance in  one  medium  of  effort  is  a  dras;  in  another. 
We  Lave  convinced  ourselves  by  this  time  that  a  man 
may  be  a  sage  in  celestial  physics  and  a  poor  creature 
in  the  purchase  of  seed-corn,  or  even  in  theorizing 
about  the  affections ;  that  he  may  be  a  mere  fumbler 
in  physiology,  and  yet  show  a  keen  insight  into  human 
motives ;  that  he  may  seem  the  "  poor  Poll "  of  the 
company  in  conversation,  and  yet  write  with  some  hu- 
morous vigor.     It  is  not  true  that  a  man's  intellectual 


06  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

power  is,  like  the  strength  of  a  timber  beam,  to  be 
measured  by  its  weakest  point. 

Why  shonld  we  any  more  apply  that  fallacious 
standard  of  what  is  called  consistency  to  a  man's 
moral  nature,  and  argue  against  the  existence  of  fine 
impulses  or  habits  of  feeling  in  relation  to  his  actions 
generally,  because  those  better  movements  are  absent 
in  a  class  of  cases  which  act  peculiarly  on  an  irritable 
form  of  his  egoism  ?  The  mistake  might  be  corrected 
by  our  taking  notice  that  the  ungenerous  words  or  acts 
which  seem  to  us  the  most  utterly  incompatible  with 
good  dispositions  in  the  offender,  are  those  which  of- 
fend ourselves.  All  other  persons  are  able  to  draw  a 
milder  conclusion.  Laniger,  who  has  a  temper  but  no 
talent  for  repartee,  having  been  run  down  in  a  fierce 
way  by  Mordax,  is  inwardly  persuaded  that  tlie  higlily- 
lauded  man  is  a  wolf  at  heart :  he  is  much  tried  by 
perceiving  that  his  own  friends  seem  to  think  no  worse 
of  the  reckless  assailant  than  they  did  before;  and 
Oorvus,  who  has  lately  been  flattered  by  some  kind- 
ness from  Mordax,  is  unmindful  enough  of  Laniger's 
feeling  to  dwell  on  this  instance  of  good-nature  with 
admiring  gratitude.  Tiiere  is  a  fable  that  when  the 
badger  had  been  stung  all  over  by  bees,  a  bear  con- 
soled him  by  a  rhapsodic  account  of  how  he  himself 
had  just  breakfasted  on  their  honey.  Tlie  badger  re- 
l^lied,  peevishly, "  The  stings  are  in  my  flesh,  and  tlie 
sweetness  is  on  your  muzzle."  The  bear,  it  is  said,  was 
surprised  at  the  badger's  want  of  altruism. 

But  this  difference  ot  sensibility  between  Laniger 


THE   WATCH-DOG  OF   KNOWLEDGE.  97 

and  his  friends  only  mirrors  in  a  faint  way  the  differ- 
ence between  his  own  point  of  view  and  that  of  the 
man  who  has  injured  him.  If  those  neutral,  perhaps 
even  affectionate  persons,  form  no  lively  conception  of 
what  Laniger  suffers,  how  should  Mordax  have  any 
such  sympathetic  imagination  to  check  him  in  what  he 
persnades  himself  is  a  scourging  administered  by  the 
qualified  man  to  the  unqualified?  Depend  upon  it, 
his  conscience,  though  active  enough  in  some  relations, 
has  never  given  him  a  twinge  because  of  his  polemical 
rudeness  and  even  brutality.^  He  would  go  from  the 
room  where  he  has  been  tiring  himself  through  the 
watches  of  the  night  in  lifting  and  turning  a  sick 
friend,  and  straightway  write  a  reply  or  rejoinder  in 
which  he  mercilessly  pilloried  a  Laniger  who  had  sup- 
posed that  he  could  tell  the  world  something  else  or 
more  than  had  been  sanctioned  by  the  eminent  Mordax 
■ — and,  what  was  worse,  had  sometimes  really  done  so. 
Does  this  nullify  the  genuineness  of  motive  which  made 
him  tender  to  his  suifering  friend?  Not  at  all.  It 
only  proves  that  his  arrogant  egoism,  set  on  fire,  sends 
up  gmoke  and  flame  where  just  before  there  had  been 
the  dews  of  fellowship  and  pity.  He  is  angry,  and 
equips  himself  accordingly — with  a  penknife  to  give 
the  offender  a  com.prachico  countenance,  a  mirror  to 
show  him  the  effect,  and  a  pair  of  nailed  boots  to  give 
him  his  dismissal.  All  this  to  teach  him  who  the  Ro- 
mans really  were,  and  to  purge  Inquiry  of  incompetent 
intrusion,  so  rendering  an  important  service  to  mankind. 
When  a  man  is  in  a  rage,  and  wants  to  hurt  another 

5 


98  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

in  consequence,  he  can  always  regard  himself  as  the 
civil  arm  of  a  spiritual  power,  and  all  the  more  easily 
because  there  is  real  need  to  assert  the  righteous  effica- 
cy of  indignation.  I  for  my  part  feel  with  the  Lani- 
gers,  and  should  object  all  the  more  to  their  or  my  be- 
ing lacerated  and  dressed  with  salt,  if  the  administrator 
of  such  torture  alleged  as  a  motive  his  care  for  Truth 
and  posterity,  and  got  himself  pictured  with  a  halo  in 
consequence.  In  transactions  between  fellow-men  it  is 
well  to  consider  a  little,  in  the  first  place,  what  is  fair 
and  kind  toward  the  person  immediately  concerned, 
before  we  spit  and  roast  him  on  behalf  of  the  next 
century  but  one.  "Wide-reaching  motives,  blessed  and 
glorious  as  they  are,  and  of  the  highest  sacramental 
virtue,  have  their  dangers,  like  all  else  that  touches  the 
mixed  life  of  the  earth.  They  are  archangels  with  aw- 
ful brow  and  flaming  sword,  summoning  and  encourag- 
ing us  to  do  the  right  and  the  divinely  heroic,  and  we 
feel  a  beneficent  tremor  in  their  presence;  but  to  learn 
what  it  is  they  thus  summon  us  to  do,  we  have  to  con- 
sider the  mortals  we  are  elbowing,  wlio  are  of  our  own 
stature  and  our  own  appetites.  I  cannot  feel  sure  Tiow 
my  voting  will  affect  the  condition  of  Central  Asia  in 
the  coming  ages,  but  I  have  good  reason  to  believe 
that  the  future  populations  there  will  be  none  the 
worse  off  because  I  abstain  from  conjectural  vilification 
of  my  opponents  during  the  present  parliamentary  ses- 
sion, and  I  am  very  sure  that  I  shall  be  less  injurious 
to  my  contemporaries.  On  tlie  whole,  and  in  the  vast 
majority  of  instances,  the  action  by  wliich  we  can  do 


THE   WATCH-DOG   OF   KNOWLEDGE.  99 

tlie  best  for  future  ages  is  of  tlie  sort  which  has  a  cer- 
tain beneficence  and  grace  for  contempoi^aries.  A  sour 
father  may  reform  prisons,  but  considered  in  his  sour- 
ness he  does  harm.  The  deed  of  Judas  has  been  attrib- 
uted to  far-reaching  views,  and  the  wish  to  hasten  his 
Master's  declaration  of  himself  as  the  Messiah.  Per- 
haps— -I  will  not  maintain  the  conti-ary — Judas  repre- 
sented his  motive  in  this  way,  and  felt  justified  in  his 
traitorous  kiss ;  but  my  belief  that  he  deserved,  meta- 
phorically speaking,  to  be  where  Dante  saw  him,  at  the 
bottom  of  the  Malebolge,  would  not  be  the  less  strong 
because  he  was  not  convinced  that  his  action  was  de- 
testable. I  refuse  to  accept  a  man,  who  has  the  stom- 
ach for  such  treachery,  as  a  hero  impatient  for  the  re- 
demption of  mankind,  and  for  tlie  beginning  of  a  reign 
when  the  kisses  shall  be  those  of  peace  and  righteous- 
ness. 

All  this  is  by  the  way,  to  show  that  my  apology  for 
Mordax  was  not  founded  on  his  persuasion  of  superior- 
ity in  his  own  motives,  but  on  the  compatibility  of  un- 
fair, equivocal,  and  even  cruel  actions  with  a  nature 
which,  apart  from  special  temptations,  is  kindly  and 
generous ;  and  also  to  enforce  the  need  of  checks  from 
a  fellow-feeling  with  those  whom  our  acts  immediately 
(not  distantly)  concern.  Will  any  one  be  so  hardy  as 
to  maintain  that  an  otherwise  worthy  man  cannot  be 
vain  and  arrogant?  I  think  most  of  us  have  some  in- 
terest in  arguing  the  contrary.  And  it  is  of  the  nature 
of  vanity  and  aiTogance,  if  unchecked,  to  become  cruel 
and  self-justifying.      There  are  fierce  beasts  within: 


100  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

chain  them,  chain  them,  and  let  them  learn  to  cower 
before  the  creature  with  wider  reason.  This  is  what 
one  wishes  for  Mordax  —  that  his  heart  and  brain 
should  restrain  the  outleap  of  roar  and  talons. 

As  to  his  unwillingness  to  admit  that  an  idea  which 
he  has  not  discovered  is  novel  to  him,  one  is  surprised 
that  quick  intellect  and  shrewd  observation  do  not 
early  gather  reasons  for  being  ashamed  of  a  mental 
trick  which  makes  one  among  the  comic  parts  of  that 
various  actor,  Conceited  Ignorance. 

I  have  a  sort  of  valet  and  factotum,  an  excellent, 
respectable  servant,  whose  spelling  is  so  unvitiated  by 
non-phonetic  superfluities  that  he  writes  7iight  as  nit. 
One  day,  looking  over  his  accounts,  I  said  to  him,  jo- 
cosely, "  You  are  in  the  latest  fashion  with  your  spell- 
ing, Pummel :  most  people  spell  "  night "  M'ith  a  gh 
between  tlie  i  and  the  ^,  but  the  greatest  scholars  now 
spell  it  as  you  do."  "  So  I  suppose,  sir,"  says  Pum- 
mel ;  "  I've  seen  it  with  a  gh,  but  I've  noways  give 
into  that  myself."  You  would  never  catch  Pummel 
in  an  interjection  of  surprise.  I  have  sometimes  laid 
traps  for  his  astonishment,  but  he  has  escaped  them 
all,  either  by  a  respectful  neutrality,  as  of  one  who 
would  not  appear  to  notice  that  his  master  had  been 
taking  too  much  wine,  or  else  by  that  strong  persua- 
sion of  his  all-knowingness  which  makes  it  simply  im- 
possible for  him  to  feel  himself  newly  informed.  If  I 
tell  him  that  the  world  is  spinning  round  and  along 
like  a  top,  and  tliat  lie  is  spinning  with  it,  he  says, 
"  Yes,  I've  heard  a  deal  of  that  in  my  time,  sir,"  and 


THE   WATCH-DOG   OF   KNOWLEDGE.  101 

lifts  the  horizontal  lines  of  his  brow  a  little  higher, 
balancing  his  head  from  side  to  side  as  if  it  were  too 
painfully  full.  Whether  I  tell  him  that  they  cook 
puppies  in  China,  that  there  are  ducks  with  fur  coats 
in  Australia,  or  that  in  some  parts  of  the  world  it  is 
the  pink  of  politeness  to  put  your  tongue  out  on  intro- 
duction to  a  respectable  stranger,  Pummel  replies, "So 
I  suppose,  sir,"  with  an  air  of  resignation  to  hearing 
my  poor  version  of  well-known  things,  such  as  elders 
use  in  listening  to  lively  boys  lately  presented  with  an 
anecdote  -  book.  His  utmost  concession  is,  that  what 
you  state  is  what  he  would  have  supplied  if  you  had 
given  him  carte  blanche  instead  of  your  needless  in- 
struction, and  in  this  sense  his  favorite  answer  is,  "  I 
should  say." 

"  Pummel,"  I  observed,  a  little  irritated  at  not  get- 
ting my  coffee,  "  if  you  were  to  carry  your  kettle  and 
spirits  of  wine  up  a  mountain  of  a  morning,  your  wa- 
ter would  boil  there  sooner."  "I  should  say,  sir." 
"  Or,  there  are  boiling  springs  in  Iceland.  Better  go 
to  Iceland."     "  That's  what  I've  been  thinking,  sir." 

I  have  taken  to  asking  him  hard  questions,  and,  as  I 
expected,  he  never  admits  his  own  inability  to  answer 
them  without  representing  it  as  common  to  the  human 
race.  "  What  is  the  cause  of  the  tides,  Pummel  V 
"  Well,  sir,  nobody  rightly  knows.  Many  gives  their 
opinion,  but  if  I  was  to  give  mine,  it  'ud  be  different." 

But  while  he  is  never  surprised  himself,  he  is  con- 
stantly imagining  situations  of  surprise  for  others. 
His  own  consciousness  is  that  of  one  so  thoroughly 


102  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

soaked  in  knowledge  that  further  absorption  is  impos- 
sible,  but  his  neighbors  appear  to  him  to  be  in  the  state 
of  thirsty  sponges,  which  it  is  a  charity  to  besprinkle. 
His  great  interest  in  thinking  of  foreigners  is  that  they 
must  be  surprised  at  wliat  they  see  in  England,  and 
especially  at  the  beef.  He  is  often  occnpied  with  the 
surprise  Adam  must  have  felt  at  the  sight  of  the  as- 
sembled animals  —  "for  he  was  not  like  us,  sir,  used 
from  a  b'y  to  Wombwell's  shows."  He  is  fond  of  dis- 
coursing to  the  lad  who  acts  as  shoeblack  and  general 
subaltern,  and  I  have  overheard  him  saying  to  that 
small  upstart,  with  some  severity,  "  Now  don't  you  pre- 
tend to  know,  because  the  more  you  pretend  the  more 
I  see  your  ignirance" — a  lucidity  on  his  part  which 
has  confirmed  my  impression  that  the  thoroughly  self- 
satisfied  person  is  the  only  one  fully  to  appreciate  the 
charm  of  humility  in  others. 

Your  diffident  self -suspecting  mortal  is  not  very 
angry  that  others  should  feel  more  comfortable  about 
themselves,  provided  they  are  not  otherwise  offensive : 
he  is  rather  like  the  chilly  person,  glad  to  sit  next  a 
wanner  neighbor ;  or  the  timid,  glad  to  have  a  coura- 
geous fellow-traveller.  It  cheers  him  to  observe  the 
store  of  small  comforts  that  his  fellow-creatures  may 
find  in  their  self-complacency,  just  as  one  is  pleased  to 
see  poor  old  souls  soothed  by  the  tobacco  and  snuff  for 
which  one  has  neither  nose  nor  stomach  one's  self. 

But  your  arrogant  man  will  not  tolerate  a  presump- 
tion which  he  sees  to  be  ill-founded.  The  service  he 
regards  society  as  most  in  need  of  is  to  put  down  the 


THE   WATCH-DOG   OF  KNOWLEDGE.  103 

conceit  which  is  so  particularly  rife  aroiiud  him  that 
he  is  inclined  to  believe  it  the  growing  characteristic 
of  the  present  age.  In  the  schools  of  Magna  Grsecia, 
or  in  the  sixth  century  of  our  era,  or  even  under  Kub- 
lai  Khan,  he  finds  a  comparative  freedom  from  that 
presumption  by  which  his  contemporaries  are  stirring 
his  able  gall.  The  way  people  will  now  flaunt  notions 
which  are  not  his,  without  appearing  to  mind  that 
they  are  not  his,  strikes  him  as  especially  disgusting. 
It  might  seem  surprising  to  us  that  one  strongly  con- 
vinced of  his  own  value  should  prefer  to  exalt  an  age 
in  which  he  did  not  flourish,  if  it  were  not  for  the  re- 
flection that  the  present  age  is  the  only  one  in  which 
anybody  has  appeared  to  undervalue  him. 


104  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


IX. 

A  HALF-BKEED, 

An  early  deep-seated  love  to  whicli  we  become  faith- 
less has  its  unfailing  Nemesis,  if  only  in  that  division 
of  soul  which  narrows  all  newer  joys  by  the  intrusion 
of  regret  and  the  established  presentiment  of  change. 
I  refer  not  merely  to  the  love  of  a  person,  but  to  the 
love  of  ideas,  practical  beliefs,  and  social  habits.  And 
faithlessness  here  means  not  a  gradual  conversion,  de- 
pendent on  enlarged  knowledge,  but  a  yielding  to  se- 
ductive circumstance ;  not  a  conviction  that  the  origi- 
nal choice  was  a  mistake,  but  a  subjection  to  incidents 
that  flatter  a  growing  desire.  In  this  sort  of  love  it  is 
the  f orsaker  who  has  the  melancholy  lot ;  for  an  aban- 
doned belief  may  be  more  effectively  vengeful  than 
Dido.  The  child  of  a  wandering  tribe,  caught  young 
and  trained  to  polite  life,  if  he  feels  a  hereditary 
yearning,  can  run  away  to  the  old  wilds  and  get  his 
nature  into  tune.  But  there  is  no  such  recovery  pos- 
sible to  the  man  who  remembers  what  he  once  be- 
lieved without  being  convinced  that  he  was  in  error, 
who  feels  within  him  unsatisfied  stirrings  toward  old 
beloved  habits,  and  intimacies  from  which  he  has  far 
receded  without  conscious  justification  or  unwavering 
sense  of  superior  attractiveness  in  the  new.     This  in- 


A   HALF-BREED.  105 

voluntary  renegade  lias  his  character  hopelessly  jan- 
gled and  out  of  tune.  He  is  like  an  organ  with  its 
stops  in  the  lawless  condition  of  obtruding  themselves 
without  method,  so  that  hearers  are  amazed  by  the 
most  unexpected  transitions — the  trumpet  breaking  in 
on  the  flute,  and  the  oboe  confounding  both. 

Hence  the  lot  of  Mixtus  affects  me  pathetically,  not- 
withstanding that  he  spends  his  growing  wealth  with 
liberality  and  manifest  enjoyment.  To  most  observers 
he  appears  to  be  simply  one  of  the  fortunate  and  also 
sharp  commercial  men  who  began  with  meaning  to  be 
rich,  and  have  become  what  they  meant  to  be :  a  man 
never  taken  to  be  well-born,  but  surprisingly  better  in- 
formed than  the  well-born  usually  are,  and  distinguish- 
ed among  ordinary  commercial  magnates  by  a  person- 
al kindness  which  prompts  him  not  only  to  help  the 
suffering  in  a  material  way  through  his  wealth,  but 
also  by  direct  ministration  of  his  own ;  yet  with  all 
this  diffusing,  as  it  were,  the  odor  of  a  man  delightedly 
conscious  of  his  wealth,  as  an  equivalent  for  the  other 
social  distinctions  of  rank  and  intellect  which  he  can 
thus  admire  without  envying.  Hardly  one  among 
those  superficial  observers  can  suspect  that  he  aims  or 
has  ever  aimed  at  being  a  writer;  still  less  can  they 
imao;ine  that  his  mind  is  often  moved  bv  strons;  cur- 
rents  of  regret,  and  of  the  most  unworldly  sympathies, 
from  the  memories  of  a  youthful  time  when  his  chosen 
associates  were  men  and  women  whose  only  distinc- 
tion was  a  religious,  a  philanthropic,  or  an  intellectual 
enthusiasm — when  the  lady  on  whose  words  his  atten- 

5* 


106  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

tion  most  hung  was  a  writer  of  minor  religious  litera- 
ture, when  he  was  a  visitor  and  exhorter  of  the  poor  in 
the  alleys  of  a  great  provincial  town,  and  when  he  at- 
tended the  lectures  given  specially  to  young  men  by 
Mr.  Apollos,  the  eloquent  congregational  preacher,  who 
had  studied  in  Germany,  and  had  liberal  advanced 
views,  then  far  beyond  the  ordinary  teaching  of  his 
sect.  At  that  time  Mixtus  thought  himself  a  young- 
man  of  socially  reforming  ideas,  of  religious  principles 
and  religious  yearnings.  It  was  within  his  prospects 
also  to  be  rich,  but  he  looked  forward  to  a  use  of 
his  riches  chiefly  for  reforming  and  religious  purposes. 
His  opinions  were  of  a  strongly  democratic  stamp,  ex- 
cept that  even  then,  belonging  to  the  class  of  employ- 
ers, he  was  opposed  to  all  demands  in  the  employed 
that  would  restrict  the  expansiveness  of  trade.  He 
was  the  most  democratic  in  relation  to  the  unreasona- 
ble privileges  of  the  aristocracy  and  landed  interest, 
and  he  had  also  a  religious  sense  of  brotherhood  with 
the  poor.  Altogether,  he  was  a  sincerely  benevolent 
young  man,  interested  in  ideas,  and  renouncing  person- 
al ease  for  the  sake  of  study,  religious  communion,  and 
good  works.  If  you  had  known  him  then,  you  would 
have  expected  him  to  marry  a  highly  serious  and  per- 
haps literary  woman,  sharing  his  benevolent  and  re- 
ligious habits,  and  likely  to  encourage  his  studies — a 
woman  who,  along  with  himself,  would  play  a  distin- 
guished part  in  one  of  the  most  enlightened  religious 
circles  of  a  great  provincial  capital. 

How  is  it  that  Mixtus  finds  himself  in  a  London 


A   HALF-BREED.  107 

mansion,  and  in  society  totally  unlike  that  which  made 
the  ideal  of  his  younger  years?  And  whom  did  he 
marry  ? 

Why,  he  married  Scintilla,  who  fascinated  him,  as 
she  had  fascinated  others,  by  her  prettiness,  her  liveli- 
ness, and  her  music.  It  is  a  common  enough  case, 
that  of  a  man  being  suddenly  captivated  by  a  woman 
nearly  the  opposite  of  his  ideal ;  or  if  not  wholly  cap- 
tivated, at  least  effectively  captured  by  a  combina- 
tion of  circumstances,  along  with  an  unwarily  manifest- 
ed inclination  which  might  otherwise  have  been  tran- 
sient. Mixtus  was  captivated  and  then  captured  on  the 
worldly  side  of  his  disposition,  which  had  been  always 
growing  and  flourishing  side  by  side  with  his  philan- 
thropic and  religious  tastes.  lie  had  ability  in  busi- 
ness, and  he  had  early  meant  to  be  rich ;  also,  he  was 
getting  rich,  and  the  taste  for  such  success  was  naturally 
growing  with  the  pleasure  of  rewarded  exertion.  It 
was  during  a  business  sojourn  in  London  that  he  met 
Scintilla,  who,  though  without  fortune,  associated  with 
families  of  Greek  merchants  living  in  a  style  of  splen- 
dor, and  with  artists  patronized  by  such  wealthy  enter- 
tainers. Mixtus  on  this  occasion  became  familiar  with 
a  world  in  which  wealth  seemed  the  key  to  a  more 
brilliant  sort  of  dominance  than  tiiat  of  a  relio-ions 
patron  in  the  provincial  circles  of  X,  Would  it  not 
be  possible  to  unite  the  two  kinds  of  sway?  A  man 
bent  on  the  most  useful  ends  mv^\{^%oith  a  fortune 
large  enough^  make  morality  magnificent,  and  recom- 
mend religious  principle  by  showing  it  in  combination 


108  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

with  the  best  kind  of  house  and  the  most  liberal  oi 
tables ;  also  with  a  wife  whose  graces,  wit,  and  accom- 
plishments gave  a  finish  sometimes  lacking,  even  to 
establishments  got  up  with  that  unhesitating  world- 
liness  to  which  high  cost  is  a  sufficient  reason. 
Enough. 

Mixtus  married  Scintilla.  Now  this  lively  lady 
knew  nothing  of  Non-conformists,  except  that  they 
were  unfashionable :  she  did  not  distinguish  one  con- 
venticle from  another,  and  Mr.  Apollos,  with  his  en- 
lightened interpretations,  seemed  to  her  as  heavy  a 
bore,  if  not  quite  so  ridiculous,  as  Mr.  Johns  could  have 
been  with  his  solemn  twang,  at  the  Baptist  chapel  in 
the  lowest  suburbs,  or  as  a  local  preacher  among  the 
Metliodists.  In  general,  people  who  appeared  seriously 
to  believe  in  any  sort  of  doctrine,  whether  religious, 
social,  or  philosophical,  seemed  rather  absurd  to  Scin- 
tilla. Ten  to  one  these  theoretic  people  pronounced 
oddly,  had  some  reason  or  other  for  saying  that  the 
most  agreeable  things  were  wrong,  wore  objectionable 
clothes,  and  wanted  you  to  subscribe  to  something. 
They  were  probably  ignorant  of  art  and  music,  did  not 
understand  badinage,  and,  in  fact,  could  talk  of  noth- 
ing amusing.  In  Scintilla's  eyes  the  majority  of  per- 
sons were  ridiculous,  and  deplorably  wanting  in  that 
keen  perception  of  what  was  good  taste  with  which 
she  herself  was  blessed  by  nature  and  education ;  but 
the  people  understood  to  be  religious,  or  otherwise  the- 
oretic, were  the  most  ridiculous  of  all,  without  being 
proportionately  amusing  and  invitable. 


A  HALF-BREED.  109 

Did  Mixtus  not  discover  this  view  of  Scintilla's  be- 
fore their  marriage?  Or  did  he  allow  her  to  remain 
in  ignorance  of  habits  and  opinions  which  had  made 
half  the  occupation  of  his  youth  ? 

When  a  man  is  inclined  to  many  a  particular 
woman,  and  has  made  any  committal  of  himself,  this 
woman's  opinions,  however  diiferent  from  his  own,  are 
readily  regarded  as  part  of  her  pretty  ways,  especially 
if  they  are  merely  negative ;  as,  for  example,  that  she 
does  not  insist  on  the  Trinity,  or  on  the  rightfulness  or 
expediency  of  church  rates,  but  simply  regards  her 
lover's  troubling  himself  in  disputation  on  these  heads 
as  stuff  and  nonsense.  The  man  feels  his  own  superior 
strength,  and  is  sure  that  marriage  will  make  no  dif- 
ference to  him  on  the  subjects  about  which  he  is  in 
earnest.  And  to  langh  at  men's  affairs  is  a  woman's 
privilege,  tending  to  enliven  the  domestic  hearth.  If 
Scintilla  had  no  liking  for  the  best  sort  of  non-con- 
formity, she  was  without  any  troublesome  bias  toward 
episcopacy,  Anglicanism,  and  early  sacraments,  and 
was  quite  contented  not  to  go  to  church. 

As  to  Scintilla's  acquaintance  with  her  lover's  tastes 
on  these  snbjects,  she  was  equally  convinced  on  her 
side  that  a  husband's  queer  ways  while  he  was  a  bach- 
elor would  be  easily  laughed  out  of  him  when  he  had 
married  an  adroit  woman.  Mixtus,  she  felt,  was  an 
excellent  creature,  quite  likable,  who  was  getting  rich ; 
and  Scintilla  meant  to  have  all  the  advantao-es  of  a 
rich  man's  wife.  She  was  not  in  the  least  a  wicked 
woman ;  she  was  simply  a  pretty  animal  of  the  apo 


110  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

kind,  with   an  aptitude  for   certain  accomplisliinents, 
which  education  had  made  the  most  of. 

But  we  have  seen  what  has  been  the  i-esult  to  poor 
Mixtus.  He  has  become  richer  even  than  he  dreamed 
of  being,  has  a  little  palace  in  London,  and  entertains 
with  splendor  the  half-aristocratic,  professional,  and  ar- 
tistic society  which  he  is  proud  to  think  select.  This 
society  regards  him  as  a  clever  fellow  in  his  particular 
branch,  seeing  that  he  has  become  a  considerable  capi- 
talist, and  as  a  man  desirable  to  have  on  the  list  of 
one's  acquaintance.  But  from  every  other  point  of 
view  Mixtus  finds  himself  personally  submerged:  what 
he  happens  to  think  is  not  felt  by  his  esteemed  guests 
to  be  of  any  consequence,  and  what  he  used  to  think 
with  the  ardor  of  conviction  he  now  hardly  ever  ex- 
presses. He  is  transplanted,  and  the  sap  within  him 
has  long  been  diverted  into  other  than  the  old  lines  of 
vigorous  growth.  How  could  he  speak  to  the  artist 
Crespi,  or  to  Sir  Hong  Kong  Bantam,  about  the  en- 
larged doctrine  of  Mr.  Apollos  ?  How  could  he  men- 
tion to  them  his  former  efforts  toward  evangelizing  the 
inhabitants  of  the  X.  alleys?  And  his  references  to 
his  historical  and  geographical  studies,  toward  a  survey 
of  possible  markets  for  English  products,  ai-e  received 
with  an  air  of  ironical  suspicion  bj^  many  of  his  po- 
litical friends,  who  take  his  pretension  to  give  advice 
concerning  the  Amazon,  the  Euphrates,  and  the  Niger 
as  equivalent  to  the  currier's  wide  views  on  the  appli- 
cabilit}"  of  leather.  He  can  only  make  a  figure  through 
his  genial  hospitality.     It  is  in  vain  that  he  buys  the 


A   HALF-BREED.  Ill 

best  pictures  and  statues  of  the  best  artists.  Nobody 
will  call  him  a  judge  in  art.  If  his  pictures  and  stat- 
ues are  well  chosen,  it  is  generally  thought  that  Scin- 
tilla told  him  what  to  buy;  and  yet  Scintilla,  in  other 
connections,  is  spoken  of  as  having  only  a  superficial 
and  often  questionable  taste.  Mixtus,  it  is  decided,  is 
a  good  fellow,  not  ignorant,  no — really  having  a  good 
deal  of  knowledge  as  well  as  sense,  but  not  easy  to 
classify  otherwise  than  as  a  rich  man.  He  has,  conse- 
quently, become  a  little  uncertain  as  to  his  own  point 
of  view,  and  in  his  most  unreserved  moments  of  friend- 
ly intercourse,  even  when  speaking  to  listeners  whom 
he  thinks  likely  to  sj^mpathize  with  the  earlier  part  of 
his  career,  he  presents  himself  in  all  his  various  as- 
pects, and  feels  himself  in  turn  what  he  has  been,  what 
he  is,  and  what  others  take  him  to  be  (for  this  last 
status  is  what  we  must  all  more  or  less  accept).  He 
will  recover  with  some  glow  of  enthusiasm  the  vision 
of  his  old  associates,  the  particular  limit  he  was  once 
accustomed  to  trace  of  freedom  in  religious  specula- 
tion, and  his  old  ideal  of  a  worthy  life ;  but  he  will 
presently  pass  to  the  argument  that  money  is  the  only 
means  by  which  you  can  get  what  is  best  worth  hav- 
ing in  the  world,  and  will  arrive  at  the  exclamation, 
"  Give  me  money  !"  with  the  tone  and  gesture  of  a 
man  who  both  feels  and  knows.  Then  if  one  of  his 
audience,  not  having  money,  remarks  that  a  man  may 
have  made  up  his  mind  to  do  without  money  because 
he  prefers  something  else,  Mixtus  is  with  him  imme- 
diately, cordially  concurring  in  the  supreme  value  of 


112  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

mind  and  genius,  which  indeed  make  his  own  chief 
delight,  in  that  he  is  able  to  entertain  the  admirable 
possessors  of  these  attributes  at  his  own  table,  though 
not  himself  reckoned  among  them.  Yet  he  will  pro- 
ceed to  observe  there  was  a  time  when  he  sacrificed 
his  sleep  to  study,  and,  even  now,  amidst  the  press  of 
business,  he  from  time  to  time  thinks  of  taking  up  the 
manuscripts  which  he  hopes  some  day  to  complete,  and 
is  always  increasing  his  collection  of  valuable  works 
bearing  on  his  favorite  topics.  And  it  is  true  that  he 
has  read  much  in  certain  directions,  and  can  remember 
what  he  has  read ;  he  knows  the  history  and  theories 
of  colonization,  and  the  social  condition  of  countries 
that  do  not  at  present  consume  a  sufficiently  large 
share  of  our  products  and  manufactures.  He  contin- 
ues his  early  habit  of  regarding  the  spread  of  Chris- 
tianity as  a  great  result  of  our  commercial  intercourse 
with  black,  brown,  and  yellow  populations  ;  but  this  is 
an  idea  not  spoken  of  in  the  sort  of  fashionable  society 
that  Scintilla  collects  round  her  husband's  table,  and 
Mixtus  now  philosophically  reflects  that  the  cause  must 
come  before  the  effect,  and  that  the  thing  to  be  direct- 
ly striven  for  is  the  commercial  intercourse,  not  exclud- 
ing a  little  war,  if  that  also  should  prove  needful  as  a 
pioneer  of  Christianity.  lie  has  long  been  wont  to 
feel  bashful  about  his  former  religion,  as  if  it  were  an 
old  attachment  having  consequences  which  he  did  not 
abandon  but  kept  in  decent  privacy,  his  avowed  ob- 
jects and  actual  position  being  incompatible  with  their 
public  acknowledgment. 


A   HALF-BREED.  113 

There  is  the  same  kind  of  fluctuation  in  his  aspect 
toward  social  questions  and  duties.  He  has  not  lost 
the  kindness  that  used  to  make  him  a  benefactor  and 
succorer  of  the  needy,  and  he  is  still  liberal  in  helping 
forward  the  clever  and  industrious;  but  in  his  active 
superintendence  of  commercial  undertakings  he  has 
contracted  more  and  more  of  the  bitterness  which 
capitalists  and  employers  often  feel  to  be  a  reasonable 
mood  toward  obstructive  proletaries.  Hence  many 
who  have  occasionally  met  him  when  trade  questions 
were  being  discussed,  conclude  him  to  be  indistinguish- 
able from  the  ordinary  run  of  moneyed  and  money- 
getting  men.  Indeed,  hardly  any  of  his  acquaintances 
know  what  Mixtus  really  is,  considered  as  a  whole — ■ 
nor  does  Mixtus  himself  know  it. 


114  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 


X. 

DEBASING  THE  MORAL  CURRENCY. 

"Il  ne  faut  pas  mettre  un  ridicule  ou  il  n'y  en  a 
point:  c'est  se  gater  le  gout,  c'est  corrompre  son  juge- 
ment  et  celui  des  antres.  Mais  le  ridicule  qui  est 
qnelque  part,  il  faut  I'y  voir,  Ten  tirer  avec  grace  et 
'  d'une  maniere  qui  plaise  et  qui  instruise." 

I  am  fond  of  quoting  this  passage  fi'om  La  Bru- 
_j^re,  because  the  subject  is  one  where  I  like  to  show 
a  Frenchman  on  my  side,  to  save  my  sentiments  from 
being  set  down  to  my  peculiar  dulness  and  deficient 
sense  of  the  ludicrous,  and  also  that  they  may  profit  by 
that  enhancement  of  ideas  when  presented  in  a  foreign 
tongue,  that  glamour  of  unfamiliarity  conferring  a  dig- 
nity on  the  foreign  names  of  very  common  things,  of 
which  even  a  philosopher  like  Dugald  Stewar.t  confesses 
the  infiuence.  I  remember  hearing  a  fervid  woman 
attempt  to  recite  in  English  the  narrative  of  a  begging 
Frenchman,  who  described  the  violent  death  of  his  fa- 
ther in  the  July  days.  The  narrative  had  impressed 
her,  through  the  mists  of  her  flushed  anxiety  to  under- 
stand it,  as  something  quite  grandly  pathetic;  but  find- 
ing the  facts  turn  out  meagre,  and  her  audience  cold, 
she  broke  off,  saying,  "  It  sounded  so  much  finer  in 
¥rench—fai  vu  le  sang  de  mon  pere^^wA  so  on — I 


DEBASING   THE   MORAL   CURRENCY.  115 

wish  1  could  repeat  it  in  French."  Tins  was  a  pardon- 
able illusion  in  an  old-fashioned  lady  who  had  not  re- 
ceived the  polyglot  education  of  the  present  day;  but 
I  observe  that  even  now  much  nonsense  and  bad  taste 
win  admiring  acceptance  solely  by  virtue  of  the  French 
language,  and  one  may  fairly  desire  that  what  seems 
a  just  discrimination  should  profit  by  the  fashionable 
prejudice  in  favor  of  La  Brny^re's  idiom.  But  I  wish 
he  had  added  that  the  habit  of  dragging  the  ludicrous 
into  topics  where  the  chief  interest  is  of  a  different  or 
even  opposite  kind,  is  a  sign  not  of  endowment  but  of 
deficiency.  The  art  of  spoiling  is  within  reach  of  the 
dullest  faculty :  the  coarsest  clown,  with  a  hammer  in 
his  hand,  might  chip  the  nose  off  every  statue  and  bust 
in  the  Vatican,  and  stand  grinning  at  the  effect  of  his 
work.  Because  wit  is  an  exquisite  product  of  high 
powers,  we  are  not  therefore  forced  to  admit  the  sadly 
confused  inference  of  the  monotonous  jester  that  he 
is  establishing  his  superiority  over  every  less  facetious 
person,  and  over  every  topic  on  which  he  is  ignorant  or 
insensible,  by  being  uneasy  until  he  has  distorted  it  in 
the  small  cracked  mirror  which  he  carries  about  with 
liim  as  a  joking  apparatus.  Some  high  authority  is 
needed  to  give  many  worthy  and  timid  persons  the 
freedom  of  muscular  repose,  under  the  growing  de- 
mand on  them  to  laugh  when  they  have  no  other  rea- 
son than  the  peril  of  being  taken  for  dullards;  still 
more,  to  inspire  them  with  the  courage  to  say  that 
they  object  to  the  theatrical  spoiling  for  themselves  and 
their  children  of  all  affecting  themes,  all  the  grander 


116  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

deeds  and  aims  of  men,  by  burlesque  associations, 
adapted  to  tlie  taste  of  rich  fishmongers  in  the  stalls 
and  their  assistants  in  the  gallery.  The  English  peo- 
ple in  the  present  generation  are  falsely  reputed  to 
know  Shakespeare  (as  by  some  innocent  persons  the 
Florentine  mule -drivers  are  believed  to  have  known 
the  Divina  Coinmedia,  not,  perhaps,  excluding  all  the 
subtle  discourses  in  the  Purgatorio  and  Paradiso) ; 
but  there  seems  a  clear  prospect  that  in  the  coming 
generation  he  will  be  known  to  them  through  bur- 
lesques, and  that  his  plays  will  find  a  new  life  as  pan- 
tomimes. A  bottle -nosed  Lear  will  come  on  with  a 
monstrous  corpulence,  from  which  he  will  frantically 
dance  himself  fj'ce  duriiig  the  midnight  storm ;  Rosa- 
lind and  Celia  will  join  in  a  grotesque  ballet  with 
sliepherds  and  shepherdesses ;  Ophelia,  in  fleshings 
and  a  voluminous  brevity  of  grenadine,  will  dance 
through  the  mad  scene,  finishing  with  the  famous  "  at- 
titude of  the  scissors  "  in  the  arms  of  Laertes ;  and  all 
the  speeches  in  "Hamlet"  will  be  so  ingeniously  paro- 
died that  the  originals  will  be  reduced  to  a  mere  me- 
moria  technica  of  the  improver's  puns — premonitory 
signs  of  a  hideous  millennium,  in  which  the  lion  will 
have  to  lie  down  with  the  lascivious  monkeys  whom 
(if  we  may  trust  Pliny)  his  soul  naturally  abhors. 
I —  I  have  been  amazed  to  find  that  some  artists,  whose 
I  own  works  have  the  ideal  stamp,  are  quite  insensible 
I\/  to  the  damaging  tendency  of  the  burlesquing  spirit 
'  /  which  ranges  to  and  fro,  and  up  and  down,  on  the 
earth,  seeing  no  reason  (except  a  precarious  censorship) 


L 


DEBASING   THE    MORAL   CURRENCY.  117 

why  it  should  not  appropriate  every  sacred,  heroic,  and 
pathetic  theme  whi(*h  serves  to  make  up  the  treasure 
of  human  admiration,  hope,  and  love.  One  would 
have  thought  that  their  own  half -despairing  efforts  to 
invest  in  worthy  outward  shape  the  vague  inward  im- 
pressions of  sublimity,  and  the  consciousness  of  an  im- 
plicit ideal  in  the  commonest  scenes,  might  have  made 
them  susceptible  of  some  disgust  or  alarm  at  a  species 
of  burlesque  which  is  likely  to  render  their  composi- 
tions no  better  than  a  dissolving  view,  where  every  no- 
ble form  is  seen  melting  into  its  preposterous  carica- 
ture. It  used  to  be  imagined  of  the  unhappy  medi- 
aeval Jews  that  they  parodied  Calvary  by  crucifying 
dogs;  if  they  had  been  guilty,  they  would  at  least  have 
had  the  excuse  of  tlie  hatred  and  rage  begotten  by  per- 
secution. Are  we  on  the  way  to  a  parody  which  shall 
have  no  other  excuse  than  the  reckless  search  after 
fodder  for  degraded  appetites  —  after  the  pay  to  be 
earned  by  pasturing  Circe's  herd  where  they  may  defile 
every  monument  of  that  growing  life  which  should 
have  kept  them  human  ?     ^(i/[fi>b[?^  . 

The  world  seems  to  me  \^';ell  supplied  with  what  is 
genuinely  ridiculous;  wit  and  humor  may  play  as 
Jiarmlessly  or  beneficently  round  tlie  changing  facets 
of  egoism,  absurdity,  and  vice,  as  the  sunshine  over  the 
rippling  sea  or  the  dewy  meadows.  AVhy  should  we 
make  our  delicious  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  with  its 
invigorating  shocks  of  laughter  and  its  irrepressible 
smiles,  which  are  the  outglow  of  an  inward  radiation 
as  gentle  and   cheering  as   tlie  warmth   of  morning, 


118  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

flourish  like  a  brigand  on  the  robbery  of  our  mental 
wealth  ? — or  let  it  take  its  exercise  as  a  madman  might, 
if  allowed  a  free  nightly  promenade,  by  drawing  the 
populace  with  bonfires  which  leave  some  venerable 
structure  a  blackened  ruin,  or  send  a  scorching  smoke 
across  the  portraits  of  the  past,  at  which  we  once 
looked  with  a  loving  recognition  of  fellowship,  and 
disfigure  them  into  butts  of  mockery  ? — nay,  worse — 
use  it  to  degrade  the  healthy  appetites  and  affections 
of  our  nature,  as  they  are  seen  to  be  degraded  in  in- 
sane patients  whose  system,  all  out  of  joint,  finds  mat- 
ter for  screaming  laugliter  in  mere  topsy-turvy,  makes 
every  passion  preposterous  or  obscene,  and  tui-ns  the 
hard -won  order  of  life  into  a  second  chaos,  hideous 
enough  to  make  one  wail  that  the  first  was  ever  thrill- 
ed  with  light  ? 

This  is  what  I  call  debasing  the  moral  currency : 
lowering  the  value  of  every  inspiring  fact  and  tradi- 
tion so  that  it  will  command  less  and  less  of  the  spirit- 
ual products,  the  generous  motives  which  sustain  the 
charm  and  elevation  of  onr  social  existence — the  some- 
thing besides  bread  by  which  man  saves  his  soul  alive. 
The  bread-winner  of  the  family  may  demand  more 
and  more  coppery  shillings,  or  assignats,  or  greenbacks 
for  his  day's  work,  and  so  get  the  needful  quantum  of 
food;  but  let  that  moral  currency  be  emptied  of  its 
value  —  let  a  greedy  buffoonery  debase  all  histoi'ic 
beauty,  majesty,  and  pathos,  and  the  mors  you  heap 
up  the  desecrated  symbols  the  greater  will  be  the  lack 
of  the  ennobling  emotions  wliich  subdue  the  tyran- 


DEBASING  THE   MORAL   CURRENCY.  119 

ny  of  suffering,  and  make  ambition  one  with  social 
virtue. 

And  yet,  it  seems,  parents  will  put  into  the  hands  of 
their  children  ridiculous  parodies  (perhaps  with  more 
ridiculous  "  illustrations  ")  of  the  poems  which  stirred 
their  own  tenderness  or  filial  piety,  and  carry  them  to 
make  their  first  acquaintance  with  great  men,  great 
works,  or  solemn  crises  through  the  medium  of  some 
miscellaneous  burlesque,  which,  with  its  idiotic  puns 
and  farcical  attitudes,  will  remain  among  their  primary 
associations,  and  reduce  them,  throughout  their  time  of 
studious  preparation  for  life,  to  the  moral  imbecility  of 
an  inward  giggle  at  what  might  have  stimulated  their 
high  emulation,  or  fed  the  fountains  of  compassion, 
trust,  and  constancy.  One  wonders  where  these  par- 
ents have  deposited  that  stock  of  morally  educating 
stimuli  which  is  to  be  independent  of  poetic  ti-adition, 
and  to  subsist  in  spite  of  the  finest  images  being  de- 
graded, and  the  finest  words  of  genius  being  poisoned 
as  with  some  befooling  drug. 

Will  fine  wit,  will  exquisite  humor  prosper  the  more 
through  this  turning  of  all  things  indiscriminately  into 
food  for  a  gluttonous  laughter,  an  idle  craving  without 
sense  of  flavors?  On  the  contrary.  That  delightful 
power  which  La  Bruyere  points  to — "  le  ridicule  qui 
est  quelque  part,  il  faut  I'y  voir,  I'en  tirer  avec  grace 
et  d'une  maniere  qui  plaise  et  qui  intruise" — depends 
on  a  discrimination  only  compatible  with  the  varied 
sensibilities  which  give  sympathetic  insight,  and  with 
the  justice  of  perception  which   is  another  name  for 


120  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

grave  knowledge.  Such  a  result  is  no  more  to  be  ex- 
pected from  faculties  on  the  strain  to  find  some  small 
hook  by  which  they  may  attach  the  lowest  incongruity 
to  the  most  momentous  subject,  than  it  is  to  be  expect- 
ed of  a  sharper,  watching  for  gulls  in  a  great  political 
assemblage,  that  he  will  notice  the  blundering  logic  of 
partisan  speakers,  or  season  his  observation  with  the 
salt  of  historical  parallels.  But  after  all  our  psycho- 
logical teaching,  and  in  the  midst  of  our  zeal  for  edu- 
cation, we  are  still,  most  of  us,  at  the  stage  of  believing 
that  mental  powers  and  habits  have  somehow,  not  per- 
haps in  the  general  statement  but  in  any  particular 
case,  a  kind  of  spiritual  glaze  against  conditions  which 
we  are  continually  applying  to  them.  We  soak  our 
children  in  habits  of  contempt  and  exultant  gibing, 
and  yet  are  confident  that,  as  Clarissa  one  day  said  to 
me, "  We  can  always  teach  them  to  be  reverent  in  the 
right  place,  you  know."  And  doubtless  if  she  were  to 
take  her  boys  to  see  a  burlesque  Socrates,  with  swollen 
legs,  dying  in  the  utterance  of  cockney  puns,  and  were 
to  hang  up  a  sketch  of  this  comic  scene  among  their 
bedroom  prints,  she  would  think  this  preparation  not 
at  all  to  the  prejudice  of  their  emotions  on  hearing 
their  tutor  read  that  narrative  of  the  Ajpology  which 
has  been  consecrated  by  the  reverent  gratitude  of  ages. 
This  is  the  impoverishment  that  threatens  our  poster- 
ity :  a  new  Famine,  a  meagre  fiend,  with  lewd  grin 
and  clumsy  hoof,  is  breathing  a  moral  mildew  over  the 
harvest  of  our  human  sentiments.  These  are  the  most 
delicate  elements  of  our  too  easily  perishable  civiliza- 


DEBASING  THE  MORAL  CURRENCY.       121 

tion.  And  here  again  I  like  to  quote  a  French  testi- 
mony. Sainte  Benve,  referring  to  a  time  of  insurrec- 
tionary disturbance,  says :  "  Rien  de  phis  prompt  a 
baisser  que  la  civilisation  dans  les  crises  comme  celle- 
ci ;  on  perd  en  trois  semaines  le  resultat  de  plusieurs 
siecles.  La  civilisation,  la  vie  est  une  chose  apprise  et 
inventee,  qu'on  le  sache  bien  :  'Tnventas  aut  qui  vitaiii 
excoluere  jper  aries.''  Les  hommes  apres  quelques  au- 
nees  de  paix  oublient  trop  cette  verite:  ils  arrivent  a 
croire  que  la  culture  est  chose  innee,  qu'elle  est  la 
meme  chose  que  la  nature.  La  sauvagerie  est  toujours 
la  a  deux  pas,  et,  des  qu'on  lache  pied,  elle  recom- 
mence." We  have  been  severely  enough  taught  (if 
■we  were  willing  to  learn)  that  our  civilization,  consid- 
ered as  a  splendid  material  fabric,  is  helplessly  in  peril 
without  the  spiritual  police  of  sentiments  or  ideal  feel- 
ings. And  it  is  this  invisible  police  which  we  had 
need,  as  a  community,  strive  to  maintain  in  efficient 
force.  How  if  a  dano:erous  "Swino-"  were  sometimes 
disguised  in  a  versatile  entertainer,  devoted  to  tlie 
amusement  of  mixed  audiences '{  And  I  confess  that 
sometimes  when  I  see  a  certain  style  of  young  lady, 
who  checks  our  tender  admiration  with  rouge  and 
henna  and  all  the  blazonry  of  an  extravagant  expen- 
diture, with  slang  and  bold  brusquerie  intended  to  sig- 
nify her  emancipated  view  of  things,  and  with  cynical 
mockery  Vv'hich  she  mistakes  for  penetration,  I  am 
sorely  tempted  to  hiss  out  '■^ Petroleuse  P''  It  is  a  small 
matter  to  have  our  palaces  set  aflame  compared  with 
the  misery  of  having  our  sense  of  a  noble  womanhood, 

6 


122  THEOPUKASTUS   SUCH. 

whicli  is  the  inspiration  of  a  purifying  shame,  the 
promise  of  life-penetrating  affection,  stained  and  blot- 
ted out  by  images  of  repiilsiveness.  These  things  come 
not  of  higher  education  but  of  dull  ignorance,  fostered 
into  pertness  by  the  greedy  vulgarity  which  reverses 
Peter's  visionary  lesson  and  learns  to  call  all  things 
common  and  unclean.  It  comes  of  debasing  the  moral 
currency. 

The  Tirynthians,  according  to  an  ancient  story  re- 
ported by  Athenasus,  becoming  conscious  tliat  their 
trick  of  laughter  at  everything  and  nothing  was  mak- 
ing them  unfit  for  the  conduct  of  serious  affairs,  ap- 
pealed to  the  Delphic  oracle  for  some  means  of  cure. 
The  god  prescribed  a  peculiar  form  of  sacrifice,  which 
would  be  effective  if  they  could  carry  it  through  with- 
out laughing,  Tliey  did  their  best ;  but  the  flimsy 
joke  of  a  boy  upset  their  unaccustomed  gravity,  and 
in  this  way  the  oracle  taught  them  tliat  e^'en  the  gods 
could  not  prescribe  a  quick  cure  for  a  long  vitiation, 
or  give  power  and  dignity  to  a  people  who,  in  a  crisis 
of  the  public  well-being,  were  at.  the  mercy  of  a  poor 
jest. 


THE    WASP   CREDITED    WITH   THE   HONEY  COME.    123 


XL 

THE  WASP  CREDITED  WITH  THE  HONEY-COMB. 

No  man,  I  imagine,  would  object  more  strongly  than 
Euphorion  to  communistic  principles  in  relation  to 
material  property,  but  with  regard  to  property  in  ideas 
he  entertains  such  principles  willingly,  and  is  disposed 
to  treat  the  distinction  between  Mine  and  Thine  in 
original  authorship  as  egoistic,  narrowing,  and  low.  I 
have  known  him,  indeed,  insist,  at  some  expense  of 
erudition,  on  the  prior  riglit  of  an  ancient,  a  mediaeval, 
or  an  eighteenth-century  writer  to  be  credited  with  a 
view  or  statement  lately  advanced  with  some  show  of 
originality ;  and  this  championship  seems  to  imply  a 
nicety  of  conscience  toward  the  dead.  He  is  evidently 
unwilling  that  his  neighbors  should  get  more  credit 
than  is  due  to  them,  and  in  this  way  he  appears  to 
recognize  a  certain  proprietorship  even  in  spiritual 
production.  But  perhaps  it  is  no  real  inconsistency 
that,  with  regard  to  many  instances  of  modern  origina- 
tion, it  is  his  habit  to  talk  with  a  Gallic  largeness  and 
refer  to  tlie  universe:  he  expatiates  on  the  diffusive 
nature  of  intellectual  products,  free  and  all-embracing 
as  the  liberal  air ;  on  tlie  infinitesimal  smallness  of 
jidividual  origination  compared  with  the  massive  in- 
heritance of  thouglit  on  which  ever^'  new  generation 


124  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

enters;  on  that  growing  preparation  for  every  epoch 
throiio-h  which  certain  ideas  or  modes  of  view  are  said 
to  be  in  the  air,  and,  still  more  metaphorically  speak- 
ing, to  be  inevitably  absorbed,  so  that  every  one  may 
be  excused  for  not  knowing  how  he  got  them.  Above 
all,  he  insists  on  the  proper  subordination  of  the  irri- 
table self,  the  mere  vehicle  of  an  idea  or  combination 
which,  being  produced  by  the  sum  total  of  the  human 
race,  must  belong  to  that  multiple  entity,  from  the  ac- 
complished lecturer  or  popularizer  who  transmits  it, 
to  the  remotest  generation  of  Fuegians  or  Hottentots, 
however  indifferent  these  may  be  to  the  superiority 
of  their  right  above  that  of  the  eminently  perishable 
dyspeptic  author. 

One  may  admit  that  such  considerations  carry  a  pro- 
found truth,  to  be  even  religiously  contemplated,  and 
yet  object  all  the  more  to  the  mode  in  which  Euphori- 
on  seems  to  apply  them.  I  protest  against  the  use  of 
these  majestic  conceptions  to  do  the  dirty  work  of  un- 
scrupulosity,  and  justify  the  non-payment  of  conscious 
debts  which  cannot  be  defined  or  enforced  by  the  law, 
especially  since  it  is  observable  that  the  large  views  as 
to  intellectual  property  which  can  apparently  reconcile 
an  able  person  to  the  use  of  lately  borrowed  ideas  as 
if  they  were  his  own,  when  this  spoliation  is  favored 
by  the  public  darkness,  never  hinder  him  from  joining 
in  the  zealous  tribute  of  recognition  and  applause  to 
those  warriors  of  Truth  whose  triumphal  arches  are 
seen  in  the  public  ways,  those  conquerors  whose  battles 
and    "annexations"  even    the    carpenters    and   brick- 


THE    WASP   CREDITED   WITH   THE    HONEY-COMB.    125 

layers  know  by  name.  Surely  the  aclvnowledgment 
of  a  mental  debt  which  will  not  be  iunnediately  de- 
tected, and  may  never  be  asserted,  is  a  case  to  which 
the  traditional  susceptibility  to  "  debts  of  honor  "  would 
be  suitably  transferred.  There  is  no  massive  public 
opinion  that  can  be  expected  to  tell  on  these  relations 
of  thinkers  and  investio-ators  —  relations  to  be  thor- 
onghly  understood  and  felt  only  by  those  who  are  in- 
terested in  the  life  of  ideas  and  acquainted  with  their 
history.  To  lay  false  claim  to  an  invention  or  dis- 
covery which  has  an  immediate  market  value ;  to 
vamp  up  a  professedly  new  book  of  reference  by  steal- 
ing from  the  pages  of  one  already  produced  at  the  cost 
of  much  labor  and  material ;  to  copy  somebody  else's 
poem  and  send  the  manuscript  to  a  magazine,  or  hand 
it  about  among  friends  as  an  original  '^  effusion ;"  to 
deliver  an  elegant  extract  from  a  known  writer  as  a 
piece  of  improvised  eloquence  —  these  are  the  limits 
M'ithin  which  the  dishonest  pretence  of  originality  is 
likely  to  get  hissed  or  hooted,  and  bring  more  or  less 
shame  on  the  culprit.  It  is  not  necessary  to  under- 
stand the  merit  of  a  performance,  or  even  to  spell  with 
any  comfortable  confidence,  in  order  to  perceive  at 
once  that  such  pretences  are  not  respectable.  But  the 
difference  between  these  vulgar  frauds,  these  devices  of 
ridiculous  jays,  whose  ill-secured  plumes  are  seen  fall- 
ing off  them  as  they  run,  and  the  quiet  appropriation  of 
other  people's  philosophic  or  scientific  ideas,  can  hard- 
ly be  held  to  lie  in  their  moral  quality,  unless  we  take 
impunity  as  our  criterion.     The  pitiable  jays  had  no 


126  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

presumption  in  their  favor,  and  foolishly  fronted  an 
alert  incredulity ;  but  Eupliorion,  the  accomplished 
theorist,  has  an  audience  who  expect  much  of  him,  and 
take  it  as  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that 
every  unusual  view  which  he  presents  anonymously 
should  be  due  solely  to  his  ingenuity.  His  borrowings 
are  no  incongruous  feathers,  awkwardlj-  stuck  on  ;  they 
have  an  appropriateness  which  makes  them  seem  an 
answer  to  anticipation,  like  the  return  phrases  of  a  mel- 
ody. Certainly  one  cannot  help  the  ignorant  conclu- 
sions of  polite  society,  and  there  are  perhaps  fashion- 
able persons  who,  if  a  speaker  has  occasion  to  explain 
what  the  occiput  is,  will  consider  that  he  has  lately  dis- 
covered that  curiously  named  portion  of  the  animal 
frame.  One  caimot  give  a  genealogical  introduction  to 
every  long-stored  item  of  fact  or  conjecture  that  may 
happen  to  be  a  revelation  for  the  large  class  of  persons 
who  are  understood  to  judge  soundly  on  a  small  basis 
of  knowledge ;  but  Euphorion  would  be  very  sorry  to 
have  it  supposed  that  he  is  unacquainted  with  the  his- 
tory of  ideas,  and  sometimes  carries  even  into  minutiae 
the  evidence  of  his  exact  registration  of  names  in  con- 
nection with  quotable  phrases  or  suggestions :  I  can 
therefore  only  explain  the  apparent  infirmity  of  his 
memory  in  cases  of  lai'ger  "  conveyance  "  by  supposing 
that  he  is  accustomed,  by  the  very  association  of  large- 
ness, to  range  them  at  once  under  those  grand  laws  of 
the  universe  in  the  light  of  which  Mine  and  Tiiine  dis- 
appear and  are  resolved  into  Everybody's  or  Nobody's, 
and  one  man's  particular  obligations  to  another  melt 


THE    WASP   CREDITED   WITH   THE   HONEY-COMB.    127 

untraceablj  into  the  obligations  of  the  earth  to  the  so- 
lar system  in  general. 

Euphorion  himself,  if  a  particular  omission  of  ac- 
knowledgment were  brought  home  to  him,  would  prob- 
ably take  a  narrower  ground  of  explanation.  It  was  a 
lapse  of  memory ;  or  it  did  not  occur  to  him  as  neces- 
sary in  this  case  to  mention  a  name,  the  source  being 
well  known ;  or  (since  this  seems  usually  to  act  as  a 
strong  reason  for  mention)  he  rather  abstained  from 
adducing  the  name  because  it  might  injure  the  excel- 
lent matter  advanced,  just  as  an  obscure  trade-mark 
casts  discredit  on  a  good  commodity,  and  even  on  the 
retailer  who  has  furnished  himself  from  a  quarter  not 
likely  to  be  esteemed  first-rate.  No  doubt  this  last  is  a 
genuine  and  frequent  reason  for  the  non-acknowledg- 
ment of  indebtedness  to  what  one  may  call  impersonal 
as  well  as  personal  sources :  even  an  American  editor 
of  school  classics,  whose  own  English  could  not  pass  for 
more  than  a  syntactical  shoddy  of  the  cheapest  sort, 
felt  it  unfavorable  to  his  reputation  for  sound  learning 
that  he  should  be  obliged  to  the  "  Penny  Cyclopaedia," 
and  disguised  his  references  to  it  under  contractions  in 
which  Us.  Knowl.  took  the  place  of  the  low  word  Pen- 
ny. Works  of  this  convenient  stamp,  easily  obtained 
and  well  nourished  with  matter,  are  felt  to  be  like  rich 
but  unfashionable  relations,  who  are  visited  and  re- 
ceived in  privacy,  and  whose  capital  is  used  or  inherit- 
ed without  any  ostentatious  insistatice  on  their  names 
and  places  of  abode.  As  to  memory,  it  is  known  that 
tliis  frail  faculty  naturally  lets  drop  the  facts  which  are 


128  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

less  flattering  to  our  self-love — when  it  does  not  retain 
them  carefully  as  subjects  not  to  be  approached,  marshy 
spots  with  a  warning  flag  over  them.  But  it  is  always 
interesting  to  bring  forward  eminent  names,  siicli  as 
Patricius  or  Scaliger,Enler  or  Lagrange, Bopp  or  Hum- 
boldt. To  know  exactly  M'hat  has  been  drawn  from 
them  is  erudition,  and  heightens  our  own  influence, 
which  seems  advantageous  to  mankind;  whereas  to 
cite  an  author  whose  ideas  may  pass  as  higher  curren- 
cy under  our  own  signature,  can  have  no  object  except 
the  contradictory  one  of  throwing  the  illumination  over 
his  figure  when  it  is  important  to  be  seen  one's  self. 
All  these  reasons  must  weigh  considerably  with  those 
speculative  persons  who  have  to  ask  themselves  wheth- 
er or  not  Universal  Utilitarianism  i-equires  that  in  the 
particular  instance  before  them  they  should  injure  a 
man  who  has  been  of  service  to  them,  and  rob  a  fellow- 
M'orkman  of  the  credit  which  is  due  to  him. 

After  all,  however,  it  must  be  admitted  that  hardly 
any  accusation  is  more  difficult  to  prove,  and  more  lia- 
ble to  be  false,  than  that  of  a  plagiarism  which  is  the 
conscious  theft  of  ideas  and  deliberate  reproduction  of 
them  as  original.  The  arguments  on  the  side  of  ac- 
quittal are  obvious  and  strong — the  inevitable  coinci- 
dences of  contemporary  thinking  —  and  our  continual 
experience  of  finding  notions  turning  up  in  our  minds 
without  any  label  on  them  to  tell  us  whence  they  came; 
so  that  if  we  are  in  the  habit  of  expecting  much  from 
our  own  capacity  we  accept  them  at  once  as  a  new  in- 
spiration.    Then,  in  relation  to  the  elder  authors,  there 


THE   WASP   CREDITED   WITH  THE   HONEY-COMB.    129 

is  the  difEculty  first  of  learning  and  tlien  of  remember- 
ing exactly  what  has  been  wrought  into  the  backward 
tapestry  of  the  world's  history,  together  with  the  fact 
that  ideas  acquired  long  ago  reappear  as  tlie  sequence 
of  an  awakened  interest  or  a  line  of  inquiry  which  is 
really  new  in  ns ;  whence  it  is  conceivable  that  if  we 
were  ancients  some  of  ns  might  be  offering  grateful 
hecatombs  by  mistake,  and  proving  our  honesty  in  a 
ruinously  expensive  manner.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
evidence  on  which  plagiarism  is  concluded  is  often  of 
a  kind  which,  though  much  trusted  in  questions  of  eru- 
dition and  historical  criticism,  is  apt  to  lead  us  iujuri- 
ously  astray  in  our  daily  judgments,  especiallj'^  of  the 
resentful,  condemnatory  sort.  How  Pythagoras  came 
by  his  ideas,  whether  St.  Paul  was  acquainted  with  all 
the  Greek  poets,  what  Tacitus  must  have  known  by 
hearsay  and  systematically  ignored,  are  points  on  which 
a  false  persuasion  of  knowledge  is  less  damaging  to 
justice  and  charity  tlmn  an  erroneous  confidence,  sup- 
.  ported  by  reasoning  fundamentally  similar,  of  my  neigh- 
bor's blameworthy  behavior  in  a  case  where  I  am  per- 
sonally concerned.  No  premises  require  closer  scru- 
tiny than  those  which  load  to  the  constantly  echoed 
conclusion,"  He  must  have  known,"  or  "He  must  have 
read."  I  marvel  that  this  facility  of  belief  on  the  side 
of  knowledge  can  subsist  under  the  daily  denionstra- 
tion  that  the  easiest  of  all  things  to  the  liuman  mind 
is  not  to  know  and  not  to  read.  To  praise,  to  blame, 
to  shout,  grin,  or  hiss,  where  others  shout,  grin,  or  hiss 
— these  are  native  tendencies;  but  to  know  and  to  read 

6* 


130  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

are  artificial,  hard  accomplishments,  concerning  which 
the  only  safe  supposition  is,  that  as  little  of  them  has 
been  done  as  the  case  admits.  An  author,  keenly  con- 
scious of  Iiaving  written,  can  hardly  help  imagining  his 
condition  of  lively  interest  to  be  shared  by  others,  just 
as  we  are  all  apt  to  suppose  that  the  chill  or  heat  we 
are  conscious  of  must  be  general,  or  even  to  think  that 
our  sons  and  daughters,  our  pet  schemes,  and  our  quar- 
relling correspondence,  are  themes  to  which  intelligent 
persons  will  listen  long  without  weariness.  But  if  the 
ardent  author  happen  to  be  alive  to  practical  teaching, 
he  will  soon  learn  to  divide  the  larger  part  of  the  en- 
lightened public  into  those  who  have  not  read  him,  and 
think  it  necessary  to  tell  him  so  when  they  meet  him 
in  polite  society,  and  those  who  have  equally  abstained 
from  reading  him,  but  wish  to  conceal  this  negation, 
and  speak  of  his  "  incomparable  works  "  with  that  trust 
in  testimony  which  always  has  its  cheering  side. 

Hence  it  is  worse  than  foolish  to  entertain  silent 
suspicions  of  plagiarism,  still  more  to  give  them  voice, 
when  they  are  founded  on  a  construction  of  probabili- 
ties M'hicli  a  little  more  attention  to  every-day  occur- 
rences as  a  guide  in  reasoning  would  show  us  to  be 
really  worthless,  considered  as  proof.  The  length  to 
which  one  man's  memory  can  go  in  letting  drop  asso- 
ciations that  are  vital  to  another  can  hardly  find  a 
limit.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  person  desirous 
to  make  an  agreeable  impression  on  you  would  delib- 
erately choose  to  insist  to  you,  with  some  rhetorical 
sharpness,  on  an  argument  which  you  were  the  first  to 


THE    WASP   CREDITED   WITH   THE   HONEY-COMB.    131 

elaborate  in  public ;  yet  any  one  who  listens  may  over- 
hear such  instances  of  obliviousness.  You  naturally 
remember  your  peculiar  connection  with  your  acquaint- 
ance's judicious  views  ;  but  why  should  lief  Your  fa- 
therhood, which  is  an  intense  feeling  to  you,  is  only  an 
additional  fact  of  meajjre  interest  for  him  to  remem- 
ber ;  and  a  sense  of  obligation  to  the  particular  living 
fellow-struggler  who  has  helped  us  in  our  thinking,  is 
not  vet  a  form  of  memory  the  want  of  which  is  felt  to 
be  disgraceful  or  derogatory,  unless  it  is  taken  to  be  a 
want  of  polite  instruction,  or  causes  the  missing  of  a 
cockade  on  a  day  of  celebration.  In  our  suspicions  of 
plagiarism  we  must  recognize,  as  the  first  weighty  prob- 
ability, that  what  we  who  feel  injured  remember  best 
is  precisely  what  is  least  likely  to  enter  lastingly  into 
the  memory  of  our  neighbors.  But  it  is  fair  to  main- 
tain that  the  neighbor  who  borrows  your  property, 
loses  it  for  awhile,  and  when  it  turns  up  again  forgets 
TOur  connection  with  it  and  counts  it  his  own,  shows 
himself  so  much  the  feebler  in  grasp  and  rectitude  of 
mind,  v  Some  absent  persons  cannot  remember  the 
state  of  wear  in  their  own  hats  and  umbrellas,  and 
have  no  mental  check  to  tell  them  that  thev  have  car- 
ried  home  a  fellow  -  visitor's  more  recent  purchase : 
thev  mav  be  excellent  householders,  far  removed  from 
the  suspicion  of  low  devices,  but  one  wishes  them  a 
more  correct  perception,  and  a  more  wary  sense  that  a 
neighbor's  umbrella  may  be  newer  than  their  own. 

True,  some  persons  are  so  constituted  that  the  very 
excellence  of  an  idea  seems  to  them  a  convincing  I'ea- 


132  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

son  that  it  must  be,  if  not  solely,  yet  especially  theirs. 
It  fits  in  so  beautifully  with  their  general  wisdom,  it 
lies  implicitly  in  so  many  of  their  manifested  opinions, 
that  if  they  have  not  yet  expressed  it  (because  of  pre- 
occupation), it  is  clearly  a  part  of  their  indigenous 
produce,  and  is  proved  by  their  immediate  eloquent 
promulgation  of  it  to  belong  more  naturally  and  appro- 
priately to  them  than  to  the  person  wlio  seemed  first 
to  have  alighted  on  it,  and  who  sinks  in  their  all- 
originating  consciousness  to  that  low  kind  of  entity, 
a  second  cause.  This  is  not  lunacy,  or  pretence,  but 
a  genuine  state  of  mind  very  effective  in  practice,  and 
often  carrying  the  public  with  it,  so  that  the  poor 
Columbus  is  found  to  be  a  very  faulty  adventurer,  and 
the  continent  is  named  after  Amerigo.  Lighter  ex- 
amples of  this  instinctive  appropriation  are  constantly 
met  with  among  brilliant  talkers.  Aquila  is  too  agree- 
able and  amusinfij  for  anv  one  who  is  not  himself  bent 
on  display  to  be  angry  at  liis  conversational  rapine — 
his  habit  of  darting  down  on  every  morsel  of  booty 
that  other  birds  may  hold  in  their  beaks,  with  an  in- 
nocent air,  as  if  it  were  all  intended  for  his  use,  and 
honestly  counted  on  by  him  as  a  tribute  in  kind. 
Hardly  any  man,  I  imagine,  can  have  had  less  trouble 
in  gathering  a  show}'  stock  of  information  than  Aquila. 
On  close  inquii-y  you  would  probably  find  that  he  had 
not  read  one  epoch-making  book  of  modern  times,  for 
he  has  a  career  which  obliges  him  to  much  correspond- 
ence and  other  official  work,  and  he  is  too  fond  of 
being  in   company  to   spend  his  leisure   moments  in 


THE   WASP   CREDITED   WITH  THE  HONEY-COMB.    133 

study ;  but  to  his  quick  eye,  ear,  and  tongue,  a  few 
predatory  excursions  in  conversation  where  there  are 
instructed  persons  gradually  furnish  surprising!}-  clever 
modes  of  statement  and  allusion  on  the  dominant  topic. 
When  he  first  adopts  a  snbject  he  necessarily  falls  into 
mistakes,  and  it  is  interesting  to  watch  his  gradual 
progress  into  fuller  information  and  better  nourished 
irony,  without  his  ever  needing  to  admit  that  he  has 
made  a  blunder  or  to  appear  conscious  of  correction. 
Snppose,  for  example,  he  had  incautiously  founded 
some  ingenious  remarks  on  a  hastv  reckoning;  that 
nine  thirteens  made  a  hundred  and  two,  and  the  in- 
significant Bantam,  hitherto  silent,  seemed  to  spoil  the 
flow  of  ideas  by  stating  that  the  pi'oduct  could  not  be 
taken  as  less  than  a  hundred  and  seventeen,  Aquila 
would  glide  on  in  the  most  graceful  manner  from  a 
repetition  of  his  previous  remark  to  the  continuation — 
"All  this  is  on  the  supposition  that  a  hundred  and  two 
were  all  that  could  be  got  out  of  nine  thirteens,  but 
as  all  the  world  knows  that  nine  thirteens  will  yield," 
etc. — proceeding  straightway  into  a  new  train  of  in- 
genious consequences,  and  causing  Bantam  to  be 
regarded  by  all  present  as  one  of  those  slow  persons 
who  take  irony  for  ignorance,  and  who  would  warn 
the  weasel  to  keep  awake.  How  should  a  sinall-eyed, 
feebly  crowing  mortal  like  him  be  quicker  in  arith- 
metic tlian  the  keen -faced,  forcible  Aquila,  in  wlioui 
Universal  knowledge  is  easily  credible?  Looked  into 
closely,  the  conclusion  from  a  man's  profile,  voice,  and 
■fluency  to  his  certainty  in  multiplication  beyond  the 


13-i  TIIEOPHKASTUS   SUCH. 

twelves,  seems  to  show  a  confused  notion  of  the  wa}' 
in  which  very  common  things  are  connected;  but  it  is 
on  such  false  correlations  that  men  found  half  their 
inferences  about  each  other,  and  high  places  of  trust 
may  sometimes  be  held  on  no  better  foundation. 

It  is  a  commonplace  that  words,  writings,  measures, 
and  performances  in  general,  have  qualities  assigned 
them,  not  by  a  direct  judgment  on  the  performances 
themselves  but  by  a  presumption  of  what  they  are 
likely  to  be,  considering  who  is  the  performer.  We  all 
notice  in  our  neighbors  this  reference  to  names  as 
guides  in  criticism,  and  all  furnish  illustrations  of  it  in 
our  own  practice;  for,  check  ourselves  as  we  will,  the 
first  impression  from  any  sort  of  work  must  depend  on 
a  previous  attitude  of  mind,  aiid  this  will  constantly  be 
determined  by  the  influences  of  a  name.  But  that  our 
prior  confidence  or  want  of  confidence  in  given  names 
is  made  up  of  judgments  just  as  hollow  as  the  conse- 
quent praise  or  blame  they  are  taken  to  warrant,  is  less 
commonly  perceived,  though  there  is  a  conspicuous  in> 
dication  of  it  in  the  surprise  or  disappointment  often 
manifested  in  the  disclosure  of  an  authorship  about 
which  everybody  has  been  making  wrong  guesses.  No 
doubt  if  it  had  been  discovered  who  wrote  the  "  Yes- 
tiges,"  many  an  ingenious  structure  of  probabilities 
would  have  been  spoiled,  and  some  disgust  might  have 
been  felt  for  a  real  author  who  made  comparatively 
so  shabby  an  appearance  of  likelihood.  It  is  this  fool- 
isli  trust  in  prepossessions,  founded  on  spurious  evi- 
dence, whicli  makes  a  medinin  of  encouragement  for 


THE   WASP   CREDITED   WITH   THE   HONEY-COMB.    135 

those  who,  happening  to  have  the  ear  of  the  pubhc, 
give  other  people's  ideas  the  advantage  of  appearing 
under  their  own  well-received  name,  while  any  remon- 
strance from  the  real  producer  becomes  an  unwelcome 
disturbance  of  complacency  with  each  person  who  has 
paid  complimentary  tributes  in  tlie  wrong  place. 

Hardly  any  kind  of  false  reasoning  is  more  ludi- 
crous than  this  on  the  probabilities  of  origination.  It 
would  be  amusing  to  catechise  the  guessers  as  to  their 
exact  reasons  for  thinking  their  guess  "  likely  :"  why 
Hoopoe  of  John's  has  fixed  on  Toucan  of  Magdalen ; 
why  Shrike  attributes  its  peculiar  style  to  Buzzard,  who 
has  not  hitherto  been  known  as  a  writer ;  whv  the  fair 
Cokimba  thinks  it  must  belong  to  the  reverend  Merula; 
and  wh}^  they  are  all  alike  disturbed  in  their  previous 
judgment  of  its  value  by  finding  that  it  really  came 
from  Skunk,  whom  they  had  either  not  tliought  of  at 
all,  or  thought  of  as  belonging  to  a  species  excluded  by 
the  nature  of  the  case.  Clearly  they  were  all  wrong 
in  their  notion  of  the  specific  conditions,  which  lay  un- 
expectedl}-  in  the  small  Skunk,  and  in  him  alone — in 
spite  of  his  education  nobody  knows  where,  in  spite 
of  somebody's  knowing  his  uncles  and  cousins,  and  in 
spite  of  nobody's  knowing  that  he  was  cleverer  than 
they  thought  him. 

Such  guesses  remind  one  of  a  fabulist's  imaginary 
council  of  animals  assembled  to  consider  what  sort  of 
creature  had  constructed  a  honey-comb  found  and  much 
tasted  by  Bruin  and  other  epicures.  The  speakers  all 
started  from  the  piobability  that  tlie  maker  was  a  bird, 


186  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

because  this  was  the  quarter  from  which  a  wondrous 
nest  miglit  be  expected ;  for  the  animals  at  that  time, 
knowing  little  of  their  own  history,  would  have  rejected 
as  inconceivable  the  notion  that  a  nest  could  be  made 
by  a  fish ;  and  as  to  the  insects,  they  were  not  willingly 
received  in  society  and  their  ways  wei'e  little  knov.Mi. 
Several  complimentary  presumptions  were  expressed 
that  the  honey-comb  was  due  to  one  or  the  other  ad- 
mired and  popular  bird,  and  there  was  much  fluttering 
on  the  part  of  the  Nightingale  and  Swallow,  neither  of 
whom  gave  a  positive  denial,  their  confusion  perhaps 
extending  to  their  sense  of  identity ;  but  the  Owl  hissed 
at  this  folly,  arguing  from  his  particular  knowledge 
that  the  animal  which  produced  honey  must  be  the 
Musk-rat,  the  wondrous  nature  of  whose  secretions  re- 
quired no  proof;  and,  in  tlie  powerful  logical  proced- 
nre  of  the  Owl,  from  musk  to  honey  was  but  a  step. 
Some  disturbance  arose  hereupon,  for  the  Musk-rat  be- 
gan to  make  himself  obtrusive,  believing  in  the  Owl's 
opinion  of  his  powers,  and  feeling  that  lie  could  have 
produced  the  honey  if  he  had  thought  of  it,  until  an 
experimental  Butcher-bird  proposed  to  anatomize  him 
as  a  lielp  to  decision.  The  hubbub  increased,  the  op- 
ponents of  the  Musk-rat  inquiring  who  his  ancestors 
wei-e,  until  a  diversion  was  created  by  an  able  dis- 
course of  the  Macaw  on  structures  generally,  which  he 
classified  so  as  to  include  tlie  honey-comb,  entering  into 
so  mucli  admirable  exposition  that  tliere  was  a  preva- 
lent sense  of  the  lioney-comb  liaving  probably  been  pro- 
duced by  one  who  understood  it  so  well.     But  Bruin, 


THE    WASP   CREDITED   WITH   TPIE   HONEY-COMB.    137 

who  Lad  probably  eaten  too  mncli  to  listen  with  edi- 
iication,  grnmbled,  in  his  low  kind  of  language,  that 
"  Fine  words  butter  no  parsnips,"  by  which  he  meant 
to  say  that  there  was  no  new  honey  forth-coming. 

Perhaps  the  audience  generally  was  beginning  to 
tire,  when  the  Fox  entered  with  his  snout  dreadfully 
swollen,  and  reported  that  the  beneficent  originator  in 
question  was  the  "Wasp,  which  he  had  found  much 
smeared  with  undoubted  honey,  having  applied  his 
nose  to  it  —  whence,  indeed,  the  able  insect,  perhaps 
justifiably  irritated  at  what  might  seem  a  sign  of  scep- 
ticism, had  stung  him  with  some  severit}-,  an  infliction 
Eeynard  could  hardly  regret,  since  the  swelling  of  a 
snout  normally  so  delicate  would  corroborate  his  state- 
ment, and  satisfy  the  assembly  that  he  had  really  found 
the  honey-creating  genius. 

The  Fox's  admitted  acuteness,  combined  with  the 
visible  swelling,  were  taken  as  undeniable  evidence, 
and  the  revelation  undoubtedly  met  a  general  desire 
for  information  on  a  point  of  interest.  Nevertheless, 
there  was  a  murmur  the  reverse  of  delighted,  and  the 
feelings  of  some  eminent  animals  were  too  strons:  for 
them  :  the  Orang-outang's  jaw  dropped  so  as  seriously 
to  impair  the  vigor  of  his  expression,  the  edifying  Peli- 
can screamed  and  flapped  her  wings,  the  Owl  hissed 
again,  the  Macaw  became  loudly  incoherent,  and  the 
Gibbon  gave  his  hysterical  laugh ;  while  the  Hyena, 
after  indulging  in  a  more  splenetic  guffaw,  agitated 
the  question  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  hush  up 
the  whole  afi^air,  instead  of  giving  public  recognition  to 


138  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

an  insect  whose  produce,  it  was  now  plain,  liad  been 
much  over-estimated.  But  this  narrow  -  spirited  mo- 
tion was  negatived  by  the  sweet-toothed  majority.  A 
complimentary  deputation  to  the  Wasp  was  resolved 
on,  and  there  was  a  confident  hope  that  this  diplomatic 
measure  would  tell  on  the  production  of  honey. 


"so  young!"  139 


XIL 

"SO  YOUNG!" 

Gaittmede  was  once   a  girlishly  handsome,  preco- 
cious youth.     That  one  cannot  for  any  considerable 
number  of  years  go  on  being  youthful,  girlishly  hand- 
some, and  precocious,  seems,  on  consideration,  to  be  a 
statement  as  worthy  of  credit  as  the  famous  syllogistic 
conclusion, "  Socrates  was  mortal."     But  many  circum- 
stances have  conspired  to  keep  up  in  Ganymede  the 
illusion  that  he  is   surprisingly  young.     He  was  the 
last  born  of  his  family,  and  from  his  earliest  memory 
was  accustomed  to  be  commended  as  such  to  the  care 
of  his  elder  brothers  and  sisters :  he  heard  his  mother 
speak  of  him  as  her  youngest  darling  with  a  loving 
pathos  in  her  tone,  which  naturally  suffused  his  own 
view  of  himself,  and  gave  him  the  habitual  conscious- 
ness of  being  at  once  very  young  and  very  interesting. 
Then,  the  disclosure  of  his  tender  years  was  a  constant 
matter  of  astonishment  to  strangers  who  had  had  proof 
of   his  precocious   talents,  and   the   astonishment   ex- 
tended to  what  is  called  tlie  world  at  large  when  he 
produced  "A  Comparative  Estimate  of  European  Na- 
tions"  before   he   was   well   out    of   his   teens.      All 
comers,  on  a  first  interview,  told  him  that  he  was  mar- 
vellously young,  and  some  repeated  the  statement  each 


140  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

time  they  saw  him  ;  all  critics  who  wrote  about  him 
called  attention  to  the  same  ground  for  wonder:  his 
deficiencies  and  excesses  were  alike  to  be  accounted 
for  by  the  flattering  fact  of  his  youth,  and  his  youth 
was  the  golden  background  which  set  off  liis  man}'- 
liued  endowments.  Here  was  already  enough  to  estab- 
lish a  strong  associati.on  between  his  sense  of  identi- 
ty and  his  sense  of  being  unusually  young.  But  after 
this  he  devised  and  founded  an  ingenious  organization 
for  consolidating  the  literary  interests  of  all  the  four 
continents  (subsequently  including  Australasia  and 
Polynesia),  he  himself  presiding  in  the  central  office, 
which  thus  became  a  new  theatre  for  the  constantly 
repeated  situation  of  an  astonished  stranger  in  the 
presence  of  a  boldly  scheming  administrator  found  to 
be  remarkably  young.  If  we  imagine  with  due  chari- 
ty the  effect  on  Ganymede,  we  shall  think  it  greatly  to 
his  credit  that  he  continued  to  feel  the  necessity  of 
being  something  more  than  young,  and  did  not  sink 
by  rapid  degrees  into  a  parallel  of  that  melancholy  ob- 
ject, a  superannuated  youthful  phenomenon.  Happily 
he  had  enough  of  valid,  active  faculty  to  save  him 
from  that  tras-ic  fate.  He  had  not  exhausted  his  foun- 
tain  of  eloquent  opinion  in  his  "  Comparative  Esti- 
mate," so  as  to  feel  himself,  like  some  other  juvenile 
celebrities,  the  sad  survivor  of  his  own  manifest  des- 
tiny, or  like  one  who  has  risen  too  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  finds  all  the  solid  day  turned  into  a  fatigued 
afternoon.  He  has  continued  to  be  productive  both  of 
schemes   and  writings,  being   perhaps  helped  by  the 


"so  young!"  141 

fact  that  bis  "Comparative  Estimate"  did  not  greatly 
affect  the  currents  of  European  thought,  and  left  him 
with  the  stimulating  hope  that  he  had  not  done  his 
best,  but  might  yet  produce  what  would  make  his 
youth  more  surprising  than  ever. 

I  saw  something  of  him  through  his  Autinoiis  peri- 
od, the  time  of  rich  chestnut  locks,  parted  not  by  a  visi- 
ble white  line  but  by  a  shadowed  furrow  from  which 
they  fell  in  massive  ripples  to  right  and  left.  In  these 
slim  days  he  looked  the  younger  for  being  rather  below 
the  middle  size ;  and  thougli  at  last  one  perceived  him 
contracting  an  indefinable  air  of  self-consciousness,  a 
slight  exaggeration  of  the  facial  movements,  the  atti- 
tudes, the  little  tricks,  and  the  romance  in  shirt  collars, 
which  must  be  expected  from  one  who,  in  spite  of  his 
knowledge,  was  so  exceedingly  young,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  say  that  he  was  making  any  great  mistake  about 
himself.  He  was  only  undergoing  one  form  of  a  com- 
mon moral  disease:  being  strongly  mirrored  for  himself 
in  the  remark  of  others,  he  was  getting  to  see  his  real 
characteristics  as  a  dramatic  part,  a  type  to  which  his 
doings  M'ere  always  in  correspondence.  Owing  to  my 
absence  on  travel  and  to  other  causes,  I  had  lost  sight 
of  him  for  several  years  ;  but  sucli  a  separation  between 
two  who  have  not  missed  each  other  seems  in  this  busy 
century  only  a  pleasant  reason,  when  they  happen  to 
meet  again  in  some  old  accustomed  haunt,  for  the  one 
who  has  stayed  at  home  to  bo  more  communicative 
about  himself  than  he  can  well  be  to  those  who  have 
all  along  been  in  his  neighborhood.     He  had  married 


142  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

in  the  interval,  and  as  if  to  keep  up  Lis  surprising 
youthf  ulness  in  all  relations,  he  had  taken  a  wife  con- 
siderably older  than  himself.  It  would  probably  have 
seemed  to  him  a  disturbing  inversion  of  the  natural 
order  that  any  one  very  near  to  him  should  have  been 
younger  than  he,  except  his  own  children,  who,  however 
young,  would  not  necessarily  hinder  the  normal  sur- 
prise at  the  youthfulness  of  their  father.  And  if  my 
glance  had  revealed  my  impression  on  first  seeing  him 
again,  he  might  have  received  a  rather  disagreeable 
shock,  which  was  far  from  my  intention.  My  mind, 
having  retained  a  very  exact  image  of  his  former  ap- 
pearance, took  note  of  unmistakable  changes,  such  as  a 
painter  would  certainly  not  have  made  by  way  of  flat- 
tering his  subject.  He  liad  lost  his  slimness,  and  that 
curved  soliditj^  which  might  have  adorned  a  taller  man 
was  a  rather  sarcastic  threat  to  his  short  figure.  The 
English  branch  of  the  Teutonic  race  does  not  produce 
many  fat  youths,  and  I  have  even  heard  an  American 
lady  say  that  she  was  much  "disappointed"  at  the 
moderate  number  and  size  of  our  fat  men,  considerino; 
their  reputation  in  the  United  States;  hence  a  stranger 
would  now  have  been  apt  to  remark  that  Ganymede 
was  unusually  plump  for  a  distinguished  writer,  rather 
tlian  unusually  youno-.  But  how  was  he  to  know  this  ? 
Many  long-standing  prepossessions  are  as  hard  to  be 
corrected  as  a  long-standing  mispronunciation,  against 
which  the  direct  experience  of  eye  and  ear  is  often 
powerless.  And  I  could  perceive  that  Ganymede's  in- 
wrought sense  of  his  surprising  youthf  illness  had  been 


"so  young!"  143 

stronger  than  the  superficial  reckoning  of  his  years  and 
the  merely  optical  phenomena  of  the  looking-glass.  He 
now  held  a  post  under  Government,  and  not  only  saw, 
like  most  subordinate  functionaries,  how  ill  everything 
was  managed,  but  also  what  were  the  changes  that  a 
high  constructive  ability  would  dictate;  and  in  men- 
tioning to  me  his  own  speeches,  and  other  efforts  to- 
ward propagating  reformatory  views  in  his  department, 
he  concluded  by  changing  his  tone  to  a  sentimental 
head-voice  and  saying : 

"  But  I  am  so  young ;  people  object  to  any  promi- 
nence on  my  part ;  I  can  only  get  myself  heard  anony- 
mously, and  when  some  attention  has  been  drawn  the 
name  is  sure  to  creep  out.  The  writer  is  known  to  be 
young,  and  things  are  none  the  forwarder." 

"Well,"  said  I, "youth  seems  the  only  drawback  that 
is  sure  to  diminish.  You  and  I  have  seven  years  less 
of  it  than  when  we  last  met." 

"Ah!"  returned  Ganymede,  as  lightly  as  possible,  at 
the  same  time  castins;  an  observant  o^lance  over  me,  as 
if  he  were  marking  the  effect  of  seven  years  on  a  per- 
son who  had  probably  begun  life  with  an  old  look,  and 
even  as  an  infant  had  given  his  countenance  to  that 
significant  doctrine,  the  transmigration  of  ancient  souls 
into  modern  bodies. 

I  left  him  on  that  occasion  without  any  melancholy 
forecast  that  his  illusion  would  be  suddenly  or  painful- 
ly broken  up.  I  saw  tiiat  he  was  well  victualled  and 
defended  accainst  a  ten  years'  siege  from  ruthless  facts : 
and  in  the  course  of  tinie  observation  convinced  me 


144  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

that  Lis  resistance  received  considerable  aid  from  with- 
out. Each  of  his  written  productions,  as  it  came  out, 
was  still  commented  on  as  the  work  of  a  very  young 
man.  One  critic,  finding  that  he  wanted  solidity,  char- 
itably referred  to  his  youth  as  an  excuse.  Another, 
dazzled  by  his  brilliancy,  seemed  to  regard  his  youth  as 
so  wondrous  that  all  other  authors  appeared  decrepit 
by  comparison,  and  their  style  such  as  might  be  look- 
ed for  from  gentlemen  of  the  old  school.  Able  pens 
(according  to  a  familiar  metaphor)  appeared  to  shake 
their  heads  good-humoredly,  implying  that  Ganymede's 
crudities  were  pardonable  in  one  so  exceedingly  young. 
Such  unanimity  amidst  diversity,  which  a  distant  pos- 
terity might  take  for  evidence  that  on  the  point  of  age 
at  least  there  could  have  been  no  mistake,  was  not  really 
more  difhcult  to  account  for  than  the  prevalence  of  cot- 
ton in  our  fabrics.  Ganymede  had  been  first  introduced 
into  the  writing  world  as  remarkably  young,  and  it  was 
no  exceptional  consequence  that  the  first  deposit  of 
information  about  him  held  its  ground  against  facts 
which,  however  open  to  observation,  were  not  necessarily 
thought  of.  It  is  not  so  easy,  with  our  rates  and  taxes 
and  need  for  economy  in  all  directions,  to  cast  aM'ay 
an  epithet  or  remark  that  turns  up  cheaply,  and  to  go 
in  expensive  search  after  more  genuine  substitutes. 
There  is  high  Homeric  precedent  for  keeping  fast 
hold  of  an  epithet  under  all  changes  of  circumstance, 
and  so  the  precocious  author  of  the  "  Comparative  Es- 
timate" heard  the  echoes  repeating  "Young  Gan}'- 
medc"  when  an  illiterate  beholder  at  a  railway  station 


"so  young!"  145 

would  have  given  him  forty  years  at  least.  Besides, 
important  elders,  sachems  of  the  clubs  and  public 
meetings,  had  a  genuine  opinion  of  him  as  young 
enough  to  be  checked  for  speech  on  subjects  which 
they  had  spoken  mistakenly  about  when  he  was  in  his 
cradle;  and  then,  the  midway  parting  of  his  crisp  hair, 
not  common  among  English  committee  men,  foj'uied  a 
presumption  against  the  ripeness  of  his  judgment  which 
nothing  but  a  speedy  baldness  could  have  removed. 

It  is  but  fair  to  mention  all  these  outward  confirma- 
tions of  Ganymede's  illusion,  which  shows  no  signs  of 
leaving  him.  It  is  true  that  he  no  longer  hears  ex- 
pressions of  surprise  at  his  youthfnlness,  on  a  first 
introduction  to  an  admiring  reader;  but  this  sort  of 
external  evidence  has  become  an  unnecessary  crutch 
to  his  habitual  inward  persuasion.  His  manners,  his 
costume,  his  suppositions  of  the  impression  he  makes 
on  others,  have  all  their  former  correspondence  with 
the  dramatic  part  of  the  young  genius.  As  to  the  in- 
congruity of  his  contour  and  other  little  accidents  of 
physique,  he  is  probably  no  more  aware  that  they  will 
affect  others  as  incongruities  than  Armida  is  conscious 
how  much  her  rouge  proNokcs  our  notice  of  her  wrin- 
kles, and  causes  us  to  mention  sarcastically  that  moth- 
erly age  which  we  should  otherwise  regard  with  affec- 
tionate reverence. 

But  let  us  be  just  enough  to  admit  that  there  may 
be  old-young  coxcombs  as  well  as  old-young  coquettes. 

7 


146  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


Xlii. 

HOW  WE  COME  TO  GRT:   OURSELVES  FALSE  TESTI- 
MONIALS, AND  BELIEVE   IN  THEM. 

It  is  my  way,  when  I  obser\e  any  instance  of  folly, 
any  queer  habit,  any  absurd  illusion,  straightway  to 
look  for  something  of  the  same  type  in  myself,  feeling 
sure  that,  amidst  all  differences,  there  will  be  a  certain 
correspondence;  just  as  there  is  more  or  less  corre- 
spondence in  the  natural  history  even  of  continents 
widely  apart,  and  of  islands  in  opposite  zones.  No 
doubt  men's  minds  differ  in  what  we  may  call  their 
climate  or  share  of  solar  energy,  and  a  feeling  or  ten- 
dency which  is  comparable  to  a  panther  in  one  may 
have  no  more  imposing  aspect  than  that  of  a  weasel  in 
another:  some  are  like  a  tropical  habitat  in  which  the 
very  ferns  cast  a  mighty  shadow,  and  the  grasses  are 
a  dry  ocean  in  which  a  hunter  may  be  submerged ; 
others  like  the  chillv  latitudes  in  which  vour  forest- 
tree,  fit  elsewhere  to  prop  a  mine,  is  a  pretty  miniature 
suitable  for  fancy  potting.  The  eccentric  man  might 
be  typified  by  the  Australian  fauna,  refuting  half  our 
judicious  assumptions  of  what  nature  allows.  Still, 
whether  fate  commanded  us  to  thatch  our  persons 
among  tlie  Eskimos  or  to  choose  the  latest  thing  in  tat- 
tooing among  tlie  Polynesian  isles,  our  })recious  guide 


FALSE   TESTIMONIALS.  147 

Comparison  would  teach  us  in  the  first  place  by  like- 
ness, and  our  clew  to  further  knowledge  would  be  re- 
semblance to  what  we  already  know.  Hence,  having 
a  keen  interest  in  the  natural  history  of  my  inward 
self,  I  pursue  this  plan  I  have  mentioned  of  using  my 
observation  as  a  clew  or  lantern  by  which  I  detet-t 
small  herbage  or  lui-king  life ;  or  I  take  my  neighbor 
in  his  least  becoming  tricks  or  efforts  as  an  opportu- 
nity for  luminous  deduction  concerning  the  figure  the 
human  genus  makes  in  the  specimen  which  I  myself 
furnish. 

Introspection  which  starts  with  the  purpose  of  find- 
ing out  one's  own  absurdities  is  not  likely  to  be  veiy 
mischievous,  yet  of  course  it  is  not  free  from  dangers 
any  more  than  breathing  is,  or  the  other  functions  that 
keep  us  alive  and  active.  To  judge  of  others  by  one's 
self  is,  in  its  most  innocent  meaning,  the  briefest  ex- 
pression for  our  only  method  of  knowing  mankind ; 
yet,  we  perceive,  it  has  come  to  mean  in  many  cases 
either  the  vulgar  mistake  which  reduces  every  man's 
value  to  the  very  low  figure  at  which  the  valuer  himself 
happens  to  stand,  or  else  the  amiable  illusion  of  the 
higher  nature  misled  by  a  too  generous  construction 
of  the  lower.  One  cannot  give  a  recipe  for  wise  judg- 
ment :  it  resembles  appropriate  muscular  action,  wliich 
is  attained  by  the  myriad  lessons  in  nicety  of  balance 
and  of  aim  that  only  practice  can  give.  The  danger 
of  the  inverse  procedure,  judging  of  self  by  what  one 
observes  in  otliers,  if  it  is  carried  on  with  much  im- 
partiality and  keenness  of  discernment,  is  that  it  has  a 


148  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

laming  effect,  enfeebling  the  energies  of  indignation 
and  scorn,  which  are  the  proper  scourges  of  wrong- 
doing and  meanness,  and  which  should  continually 
feed  the  wholesome  restraining  power  of  public  opin- 
ion. I  respect  the  horsewhip  when  applied  to  the  back 
of  Cruelty,  and  think  that  he  who  applies  it  is  a  more 
perfect  human  being  because  his  outleap  of  indigna- 
tion is  not  checked  by  a  too  curious  reflection  on  the 
nature  of  guilt— -a  more  perfect  human  being  because 
he  more  completely  incorporates  the  best  social  life  of 
the  race,  which  can  never  be  constitnted  by  ideas  that 
nullify  action.  Tliis  is  the  essence  of  Dante's  senti- 
ment (it  is  painful  to  think  that  he  applies  it  very 
cruelly) — ■ 

"  E  cortesia  fu,  liii  esser  villano — "* 

and  it  is  undeniable  that  a  too  intense  consciousness  of 
one's  kinship  with  all  frailties  and  vices  undermines 
the  active  lieroism  which  battles  against  wrong. 

But  certainly  nature  has  taken  care  that  this  danger 
should  not  at  present  be  very  threatening.  One  could 
not  fairly  describe  the  generality  of  one's  neighbors  as 
too  lucidly  aware  of  manifesting  in  their  own  persons 
the  weaknesses  which  they  observe  in  the  rest  of  her 
Majesty's  subjects ;  on  the  contrary,  a  hasty  conclusion 
as  to  schemes  of  Providence  might  lead  to  the  supposi- 
tion that  one  man  was  intended  to  correct  another  by 
being  most  intolerant  of  the  ngly  quality  or  trick  which 
he  himself  possesses.     Doubtless  philosopher  will  be 

*  Inferno,  xxxii,  liiO. 


FALSE  TESTIMONIALS.  149 

able  to  explain  how  it  must  necessarily  be  so,  but  pend- 
ing the  full  extension  of  the  d  ^J;■^6'r^  method,  which 
will  show  that  only  blockheads  could  expect  anything 
to  be  otherwise,  it  does  seem  surprising  that  Heloisa 
should  be  disgusted  at  Laura's  attempts  to  disguise  her 
age — attempts  which  she  recognizes  so  thoroughly  be- 
cause they  enter  into  her  own  practice ;  that  Semper, 
who  often  responds  at  public  dinners  and  proposes 
resolutions  on  platforms,  though  he  has  a  trying  gesta- 
tion of  every  speech  and  a  bad  time  for  himself  and 
others  at  every  delivery,  should  yet  remark  pitilessly 
on  the  folly  of  precisely  the  same  course  of  action  in 
Ubique ;  that  Aliquis,  who  lets  no  attack  on  himself 
pass  unnoticed,  and  for  every  handful  of  gravel  against 
his  windows  sends  a  stone  in  reply,  should  deplore  the 
ill-advised  retorts  of  Quispiam,  who  does  not  perceive 
that  to  show  one's  self  angry  with  an  adversary  is  to 
gratify  him.  To  be  unaware  of  our  own  little  tricks 
of  manner  or  our  own  mental  blemishes  and  excesses 
is  a  comprehensible  unconsciousness  ;  the  puzzling  fact 
is  that  people  should  apparently  take  no  account  of 
their  deliberate  actions,  and  should  expect  them  to  be 
equally  ignored  by  others.  It  is  an  inversion  of  the 
accepted  order :  the^'e  it  is  the  phrases  that  are  official 
and  the  conduct  or  privately  manifested  sentiment  that 
is  taken  to  be  real ;  he7'e  it  seems  tliat  the  practice  is 
taken  to  be  official  and  entirely  nullified  by  the  verbal 
renresentation  wliicli  contradicts  it.  The  thief  makins^ 
a  vow  to  Heaven  of  full  restitution  and  whispering 
some  reservations,  expecting  to  cheat  Omniscience  by 


150  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

an  "aside,"  is  hardly  more  ludicrous  than  the  many 
ladies  and  gentlemen  who  have  more  belief,  and  expect 
others  to  have  it,  in  their  own  statement  about  their 
habitual  doings  than  in  the  contradictory  fact  which 
is  patent  in  the  daylight.  One  reason  of  the  absurdity 
is  that  we  are  led  by  a  tradition  about  ourselves,  so 
that  long  after  a  man  has  practically  departed  from  a 
rule  or  principle  he  continues  innocently  to  state  it  as 
a  true  description  of  his  practice — just  as  he  has  a  long 
tradition  that  he  is  not  an  old  gentleman,  and  is  startled 
when  he  is  seventy  at  overhearing  himself  called  by  an 
epithet  which  he  has  only  applied  to  others. 

"A  person  with  your  tendency  of  constitution  should 
take  as  little  sugar  as  possible,"  said  Pilulus  to  Bovis 
somewhere  in  the  darker  decades  of  this  century.  "  It 
has  made  a  great  difference  to  Avis  since  he  took  my 
advice  in  that  matter:  he  used  to  consume  half  a 
pound  a  day." 

"  God  bless  me !"  cries  Bovis.  "  I  take  very  little 
sugar  myself." 

"Twenty -six  large  lumps  every  day  of  your  life, 
Mr.  Bovis,"  says  his  wife. 

"  No  such  thing !"  exclaims  Bovis. 

"  You  drop  them  into  your  tea,  coffee,  and  whiskey 
yourself,  my  dear,  and  I  count  them." 

"  Nonsense !"  laughs  Bovis,  turning  to  Pilulus,  that 
they  may  exchange  a  glance  of  mutual  amusement  at 
a  woman's  inaccuracy. 

But  she  happened  to  be  right.  Bovis  had  never 
said  inwardly  that  he  would  take  a  large  allowance  of 


FALSE   TESTIMONIALS.  161 

sugar,  and  he  had  the  tradition  about  himself  that  he 
M'as  a  man  of  the  most  moderate  habits ;  hence,  with 
this  conviction,  he  was  naturally  disgusted  at  the  sac- 
charine excesses  of  Avis. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  this  facility  of  men 
in  believing  that  they  are  still  what  they  once  meant 
to  be — this  undisturbed  appropriation  of  a  traditional 
character  which  is  often  but  a  melancholy  relic  of  early 
resolutions,  like  the  worn  and  soiled  testimonial  to  so- 
berness and  honesty  carried  in  the  pocket  of  a  tippler 
whom  the  need  of  a  dram  has  driven  into  peculation — 
may  sometimes  diminish  the  turpitude  of  what  seems 
a  flat,  barefaced  falsehood.  It  is  notorious  that  a  man 
may  go  on  uttering  false  assertions  about  his  own  acts 
till  he  at  last  believes  in  them.  Is  it  not  possible  that 
sometimes,  in  the  very  first  utterance,  there  ma}'  be  a 
shade  of  creed-reciting  belief,  a  reproduction  of  a  tra- 
ditional self  which  is  clung  to  against  all  evidence? 
There  is  no  knowing  all  the  disguises  of  the  lying  ser- 
pent. 

When  we  come  to  examine  in  detail  what  is  the 
sane  mind  in  the  sane  body,  the  final  test  of  complete- 
ness seems  to  be  a  security  of  distinction  between  what 
we  have  professed  and  what  we  have  done — what  we 
have  aimed  at  and  what  we  have  achieved — what  we 
have  invented  and  what  we  have  witnessed  or  had  evi- 
denced to  us — what  we  think  and  feel  in  the  present 
and  what  we  thought  and  felt  in  the  past. 

I  know  that  there  is  a  common  prejudice  which 
regards  the  habitual  confusion  of  now  and  then^oi  it 


152  THEOPIIRASTUS   SUCH. 

was  and  it  is,  of  ii  seemed  so  and  I  should  like  it  to 
be  so,  as  a  mark  of  high  imaginative  endowment,  while 
the  power  of  precise  statement  and  description  is  rated 
lower,  as  the  attitude  of  an  every -day  prosaic  mind. 
High  imagination  is  often  assigned  or  claimed  as  if 
it  were  a  ready  activity  in  fabricating  extravagances 
such  as  are  presented  by  fevered  dreams,  or  as  if  its 
possessors  were  in  that  state  of  inability  to  give  credi- 
ble testimony  which  would  warrant  their  exclusion 
from  the  class  of  acceptable  witnesses  in  a  court  of 
justice;  so  that  a  creative  genius  might  fairly  be  sub- 
jected to  the  disability  which  some  laws  have  stamped 
on  dicers,  slaves,  and  other  classes  whose  position  was 
held  perverting  to  their  sense  of  social  responsibility. 

This  endowment  of  mental  confusion  is  often  boast- 
ed of  by  persons  whose  imaginativeness  would  not  oth- 
erwise be  known,  unless  it  were  by  the  slow  process  of 
detecting  that  their  descriptions  and  narratives  were 
not  to  be  trusted.  Callista  is  always  ready  to  testify 
of  herself  that  she  is  an  imaginative  person,  and  some- 
times adds,  in  illustration,  that  if  she  had  taken  a  walk 
and  seen  an  old  heap  of  stones  on  her  way,  the  account 
she  would  give  on  returning  would  include  many 
pleasing  particulars  of  Iier  own  invention,  transform- 
ing the  simple  heap  into  an  interesting  castellated 
ruin.  This  creative  freedom  is  all  very  well  in  the 
right  place  ;  but  before  I  can  grant  it  to  be  a  sign  of 
unusual  mental  power,  I  must  inquire  whether,  on  be- 
ing requested  to  give  a  precise  description  of  what  she 
saw,  she  would  be  able  to  cast  aside  her  arbitrary  com- 


FALSE   TESTIMONIALS.  153 

binations  and  recover  the  objects  she  really  perceived, 
so  as  to  make  them  recognizable  by  another  person 
who  passed  the  same  way.  Otherwise  her  glorifying 
imagination  is  not  an  addition  to  the  fundamental 
power  of  strong,  discerning  perception,  but  a  cheaper 
substitute.  And,  in  fact,  I  find,  on  listening  to  Cal- 
lista's  conversation,  that  she  has  a  very  lax  conception 
even  of  common  objects,  and  an  equally  lax  memory 
of  events.  It  seems  of  no  consequence  to  her  whether 
she  shall  say  that  a  stone  is  overgrown  with  moss  or 
with  lichen,  that  a  building  is  of  sandstone  or  of  gran- 
ite, that  Meliboeus  once  forgot  to  put  on  his  cravat  or 
that  he  always  appears  without  it ;  that  everybody  says 
so,  or  that  one  stock- broker's  wife  said  so  yesterday; 
that  Philemon  praised  Euphemia  up  to  the  skies,  or 
that  he  denied  knowing  any  particular  evil  of  her. 
She  is  one  of  those  respectable  witnesses  who  would 
testify  to  the  exact  moment  of  an  apparition,  because 
any  desirable  moment  will  be  as  exact  as  another  to 
her  remembrance ;  or  who  would  be  the  most  worthy 
to  witness  the  action  of  spirits  on  slates  and  tables  be- 
cause the  action  of  limbs  would  not  probably  arrest 
her  attention.  She  would  describe  the  surprising  phe- 
nomena exhibited  by  the  powerful  Medium  with  the 
same  freedom  tliat  she  vaunted  in  relation  to  the  old 
heap  of  stones.  Her  supposed  imaginativeness  is  sim- 
ply a  very  usual  lack  of  discriminating  perception,  ac- 
companied with  a  less  usual  activity  of  misrepresenta- 
tion, which,  if  it  had  been  a  little  more  intense,  or  had 
been  stimulated  by  circumstance,  might  have  made  her 


15-4  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

a  profuse  writer,  unchecked  by  the  troublesome  need  of 
veracity. 

These  characteristics  are  the  very  opposite  of  such 
as  yield  a  fine  imagination,  which  is  always  based  on 
a  keen  vision,  a  keen  consciousness  of  what  is,  and  car- 
ries the  store  of  definite  knowledge  as  material  for  the 
construction  of  its  inward  visions.  Witness  Dante,  who 
is  at  once  the  most  precise  and  homely  in  his  reproduc- 
tion of  actual  objects,  and  the  most  soaringly  at  large 
in  his  imaginative  combinations.  On  a  much  lower 
level  we  distinguish  the  hj^^erbole  and  rapid  develoj)- 
ment  in  descriptions  of  persons  and  events  which  are 
lit  up  by  humorous  intention  in  the  speaker — we  dis- 
tinguish this  charming  play  of  intelligence,  which  re- 
sembles musical  improvisation  on  a  given  motive,  where 
the  farthest  sweep  of  curve  is  looped  into  relevancy  by 
an  instinctive  method,  from  the  florid  inaccuracy  or 
helpless  exaggeration  which  is  really  something  com- 
moner than  the  correct  simplicity  often  depreciated  as 
prosaic. 

Even  if  high  imagination  were  to  be  identified  with 
illusion,  there  would  be  the  same  sort  of  difference  be- 
tween the  imperial  wealth  of  illusion  which  is  informed 
by  industrious  submissive  observation,  and  the  trump- 
ery stage -property  illusion  which  depends  on  the  ill- 
defined  impressions  gathered  by  capricious  inclination, 
as  there  is  between  a  good  and  a  bad  picture  of  the 
Last  Judgment.  In  both  these  the  subject  is  a  com- 
bination never  actually  witnessed,  and  in  the  good 
picture  the  general  combination  may  be  of  surpassing 


FALSE   TESTIMONIALS.  155 

boldness;  but  on  examination  it  is  seen  that  the  sepa- 
rate elements  have  been  closely  studied  from  real  ob- 
jects. And  even  where  we  find  the  charm  of  ideal 
elevation  with  wrong  drawing  and  fantastic  color,  the 
charm  is  dependent  on  the  selective  sensibility  of  the 
painter  to  certain  real  delicacies  of  form  which  confer 
the  expression  he  longed  to  render ;  for  apart  from  this 
basis  of  an  effect  perceived  in  common,  there  could  be 
no  conveyance  of  aesthetic  meaning  by  the  painter  to 
the  beholder.  In  this  sense  it  is  as  true  to  say  of  Fra 
Angelico's  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  that  it  has  a  strain 
of  reality,  as  to  say  so  of  a  portrait  by  Rembrandt, 
which  also  has  its  strain  of  ideal  elevation  due  to  Rem- 
brandt's virile  selective  sensibility. 

To  correct  such  self-flatterers  as  Callista,  it  is  wortli 
repeating  that  powerful  imagination  is  not  false  out- 
ward vision,  but  intense  inward  representation,  and  a 
creative  energy  constantly  fed  by  susceptibility  to  tlie 
veriest  minutige  of  experience,  which  it  reproduces  and 
constructs  in  fresh  and  fresh  wholes ;  not  the  habitual 
confiision  of  provable  fact  with  the  fictions  of  fancy 
and  transient  inclination,  but  a  breadth  of  ideal  asso- 
ciation which  informs  every  material  object,  every  in- 
cidental fact,  with  far-reaching  memories  and  stored 
residues  of  passion,  bringing  into  new  light  the  less  ob- 
vious relations  of  human  existence.  The  illusion  to 
which  it  is  liable  is  not  that  of  habituallv  takins:  duck- 
ponds  for  lilied  pools,  but  of  being  more  or  less  tran- 
siently and  in  varying  degrees  so  absorbed  in  ideal  vi- 
sion as  to  lose  the  consciousness  of  surroundine:  ob- 


156  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH, 

jects  or  occnrrences  ;  and  when  that  rapt  condition  is 
past,  the  sane  genius  discriminates  clearly  between 
wliat  has  been  given  in  this  parenthetic  state  of  excite- 
ment, and  what  he  has  known,  and  may  count  on,  in 
the  ordinary  world  of  experience.  Dante  seems  to 
have  expressed  these  conditions  perfect]}^  in  that  pas- 
sage of  the  Purgatorio  where,  after  a  triple  vision 
which  lias  made  him  forget  his  surroundings,  he  says : 

"  Qnando  I'anima  mia  torno  di  fuori 
AUe  cose  che  son  fuor  di  lei  vere, 
lo  riconobbi  i  miei  non  falsi  errori." — C.  xv. 

He  distinguishes  the  ideal  truth  of  his  entranced  vi- 
sion from  the  series  of  external  facts  to  which  his  con- 
sciousness had  returned.  Isaiah  gives  us  the  date  of 
his  vision  in  the  Temple — "the  year  that  King  Uzziali 
died" — and  if  afterward  the  mighty-winged  seraphim 
were  present  with  him  as  he  trod  the  street,  he  doubt- 
less knew  them  for  images  of  memory,  and  did  not  cry 
"  Look  !"  to  the  passers-by. 

Certainly  the  seer,  whether  prophet,  philosopher,  sci- 
entific discoverer,  or  poet,  may  happen  to  be  rather 
mad :  his  powers  may  have  been  used  up,  like  Don 
Quixote's,  in  their  visionary  or  theoretic  constructions, 
so  that  the  reports  of  common-sense  fail  to  affect  him, 
or  tlie  continuous  strain  of  excitement  may  have  rob- 
bed liis  mind  of  its  elasticity.  It  is  hard  for  our  frail 
mortality  to  carry  the  burden  of  greatness  with  steady 
gait  and  full  alacrity  of  perception.  But  ho  is  the 
strongest  seer  who  can  support  the  stress  of  creative 


FALSE   TESTIMONIALS.  157 

energy,  and  yet  keep  that  sanity  of  expectation  which 
consists  in  distinguishing,  as  Dante  does,  between  the 
cose  che  son  vere  outside  the  individual  mind,  and  the 
non  falsi  errori  which  are  the  revelations  of  true  im- 
aginative j)ower. 


158  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


XIV. 

THE  TOO  EEADY  WRITER. 

One  who  talks  too  much,  hindering  the  rest  of  the 
company  from  taking  their  turn,  and  apparently  seeing 
no  reason  why  they  should  not  rather  desire  to  know 
his  opinion  or  experience  in  relation  to  all  subjects,  or 
at  least  to  renounce  the  discussion  of  any  topic  where 
he  can  make  no  figure,  has  never  been  praised  for  this 
industrious  monopoly  of  work  which  others  would  will- 
ingly have  shared  in.  However  various  and  brilliant 
his  talk  may  be,  we  suspect  him  of  impoverishing  us 
by  excluding  the  contributions  of  other  minds,  which 
attract  our  curiosity  the  more  because  he  has  shut  them 
up  in  silence.  Besides,  we  get  tired  of  a  "  manner"  in 
conversation  as  in  painting,  when  one  theme  after  an- 
other is  treated  with  the  same  lines  and  touches.  I 
begin  with  a  liking  for  an  estimable  master,  but  by  the 
time  he  has  stretched  his  interpretation  of  the  world 
unbrokenly  along  a  palatial  gallery,  I  have  had  what 
the  cautious  Scotch  mind  would  call  "enough"  of  him. 
There  is  monotony  and  narrowness  already  to  spare 
in  my  own  identity;  what  comes  to  me  from  without 
should  be  larger  and  more  impartial  than  the  judgment 
of  any  single  interpreter.  On  this  ground  even  a  mod- 
est person,  without  power  or  will  to  shine  in  the  cou- 


THE  TOO   READY   WRITER.  159 

versation,  may  easily  find  the  predominating  talker  a 
nuisance,  while  those  who  are  full  of  matter  on  special 
topics  are  continually  detecting  miserably  thin  places 
in  the  web  of  that  information  which  he  will  not  de- 
sist  from  imparting.  Nobody  that  I  know  of  e\er  pro- 
posed a  testimonial  to  a  man  for  thus  volunteering  the 
whole  expense  of  the  conversation. 

Why  is  there  a  different  standard  of  judgment  with 
regard  to  a  writer  who  plays  much  the  same  part  in 
literature  as  the  excessive  talker  plays  in  \That  is  tra- 
ditionally called  conversation?  The  busy  Adrastus, 
whose  professional  engagements  might  seem  more  than 
enough  for  the  nervous  energy  of  one  man,  and  who 
yet  finds  time  to  print  essays  on  the  chief  current  sub- 
jects, from  the  tri-lingual  inscriptions,  or  the  Idea  of 
the  Infinite  among  the  prehistoric  Lapps,  to  the  Col- 
orado beetle  and  the  grape  disease  in  the  south  of 
France,  is  generally  praised,  if  not  admired,  for  the 
breadth  of  his  mental  range  and  his  gigantic  powers  of 
work.  Poor  Theron,  who  has  some  original  ideas  on 
a  subject  to  which  he  has  given  years  of  research  and 
meditation,  has  been  waiting  anxiously  from  month  to 
month  to  see  whether  his  condensed  exposition  will 
find  a  place  in  the  next  advertised  programme,  but  sees 
it,  on  the  contrary,  regularly  excluded,  and  twice  the 
space  he  asked  for  filled  with  the  copious  brew  of 
Adrastus,  whose  name  carries  custom  like  a  celebrated 
trade-mark.  Wliy  should  the  eager  haste  to  tell  what 
he  thinks  on  the  sliortest  notice,  as  if  his  opinion  were 
a  needed  preliminary  to  discussion,  get  a  man  the  repu- 


160  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

tation  of  being  a  conceited  bore  in  conversation,  when 
nobody  blames  the  same  tendency  if  it  shows  itself  in 
print?  The  excessive  talker  can  only  be  in  one  gath- 
ering at  a  time,  and  there  is  the  comfort  of  thinking 
that  everywhere  else  other  fellow-citizens  who  have 
something  to  say  may  get  a  chance  of  delivering  them- 
selves ;  but  the  exorbitant  writer  can  occupy  space  and 
spread  over  it  the  more  or  less  agreeable  iiavor  of  his 
mind  in  four  "  mediums "  at  once,  and  on  subjects 
taken  from  the  four  winds.  Such  restless  and  versatile 
occupants  of  literary  space  and  time  should  have  lived 
earlier,  when  the  world  wanted  summaries  of  all  extant 
knowledge,  and  this  knowledge  being  small,  there  was 
the  more  room  for  commentary  and  conjecture.  They 
might  have  played  the  part  of  an  Isidor  of  Seville,  or 
a  Vincent  of  Beauvais  brilliantlv,  and  the  willhiffness 
to  write  everything  themselves  would  have  been  strict- 
ly in  place.  In  the  present  day,  the  busy  retailer  of 
other  people's  knowledge  which  he  has  spoiled  in  the 
handling,  the  restless  guesser  and  commentator,  the  im- 
portunate hawker  of  undesirable  superfluities,  the  ever- 
lasting word-compeller,  who  rises  early  in  the  morning 
to  praise  what  the  world  has  already  glorified,  or  makes 
himself  hao-o-ard  at  nio-lit  in  writine:  out  his  dissent 
from  what  nobody  ever  believed,  is  not  simply  "gratis 
anhelans,  multa  agendo  nihil  agens  " — he  is  an  obstruc- 
tion. Like  an  incompetent  architect,  with  too  much 
interest  at  his  back,  he  obtrudes  his  ill-considered  work 
where  place  ought  to  have  been  left  to  better  men. 
Is  it  out  of  the  question  that  we  should  entertain 


THE   TOO    READY    WRITER.  IGl 

some  scruple  about  mixing  our  own  flavor,  as  of  the 
too  cheap  and  insistent  nutmeg,  with  that  of  every 
great  writer  and  every  great  subject — especially  when 
our  flavor  is  all  we  have  to  give,  the  matter  or  knowl- 
edge having  been  already  given  by  somebody  else? 
What  if  we  were  only  like  the  Spanish  wine -skins 
which  impress  the  innocent  stranger  with  the  notion 
that  the  Spanish  grape  has  naturally  a  taste  of  leather? 
One  could  wish  that  even  the  greatest  minds  should 
leave  some  themes  unhandled,  or  at  least  leave  us  no 
more  than  a  paragraph  or  two  on  them  to  show  how 
well  they  did  in  not  being  more  lengthy. 

Such  entertainment  of  scruple  can  hardly  be  expect- 
ed from  the  young ;  but  happily  their  readiness  to  mir- 
ror the  universe  anew  for  the  rest  of  mankind  is  not 
encouraged  by  easy  publicity.  In  the  vivacious  Pepin 
I  have  often  seen  the  image  of  my  early  youth,  when 
it  seemed  to  me  astonishing  that  the  philosophers  had 
left  so  many  difiiculties  unsolved,  and  that  so  many 
great  themes  had  raised  no  great  poet  to  treat  them. 
I  had  an  elated  sense  that  I  should  find  my  brain  full 
of  theoretic  clews  when  I  looked  for  them,  and  that 
wherever  a  poet  had  not  done  what  I  expected,  it  was 
for  want  of  my  insight.  Not  knowing  what  had  been 
said  about  the  play  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  I  felt  myself 
capable  of  writing  something  original  on  its  blem- 
ishes and  beauties.  In  relation  to  all  subjects  I  had  a 
joyous  consciousness  of  that  ability  which  is  prior  to 
knowledge,  and  of  only  needing  to  apply  myself  in 
order  to  master  any  task  —  to  conciliate  philosophers 


162  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

whose  systems  were  at  present  but  dimly  known  to 
me,  to  estimate  foreign  poets  whom  I  had  not  yet  read, 
to  show  np  mistakes  in  a  historical  monograph  that 
roused  ray  interest  in  an  epoch  which  I  had  been  hith- 
erto ignorant  of — when  I  should  once  have  had  time 
to  verify  my  views  of  probability  by  looking  into  an 
encyclopaedia.  So  Pepin ;  save  only  that  he  is  indus- 
trious while  I  was  idle.  Like  the  astronomer  in  Ras- 
selas,  I  swayed  the  universe  in  my  consciousness  with- 
out making  any  difference  outside  me  ;  whereas  Pepin, 
while  feeling  himself  powerful  with  the  stars  in  their 
courses,  really  raises  some  dust  here  below.  He  is  no 
longer  in  his  spring-tide ;  but  having  been  always  busy, 
he  has  been  obliged  to  use  his  first  impressions  as  if 
they  were  deliberate  opinions,  and  to  range  himself  on 
the  corresponding  side  in  ignorance  of  much  that  he 
commits  himself  to;  so  that  he  retains  some  charac- 
teristics of  a  comparatively  tender  age,  and  among 
them  a  certain  surprise  that  there  have  not  been  more 
persons  equal  to  himself.  Perhaps  it  is  unfortunate 
for  him  that  he  early  gained  a  hearing,  or  at  least  a 
place  in  print,  and  was  thus  encouraged  in  acquiring 
a  fixed  habit  of  writing,  to  the  exclusion  of  any  other 
bread-winning  pursuit.  He  is  already  to  be  classed  as 
a  "  general  writer,"  corresponding  to  the  comprehen- 
sive wants  of  the  "  general  i*eader,"  and  with  this  in- 
dustry on  his  hands  it  is  not  enough  for  him  to  keep 
up  the  ingenuous  self-reliance  of  youth :  he  finds  him- 
self under  an  obligation  to  be  skilled  in  various  meth- 
ods of  seeming  to  know ;  and  having  habitually  ex- 


THE   TOO   READY    WRITER.  163 

pressed  himself  before  he  was  convinced,  his  interest 
in  all  subjects  is  chiefly  to  ascertain  that  he  has  not 
made  a  mistake,  and  to  feel  his  infallibility  confirmed. 
That  impulse  to  decide,  that  vague  sense  of  being  able 
to  achieve  the  unattempted,  that  dream  of  aerial  un- 
limited movement  at  will  without  feet  or  wings,  which 
were  once  but  the  joyous  mounting  of  young  sap,  are 
already  taking  sliape  as  unalterable  woody  fibre :  the 
impulse  has  hardened  into  "  style,"  and  into  a  pattern 
of  peremptory  sentences;  the  sense  of  ability  in  the 
presence  of  other  men's  failures  is  turning  into  the 
ofiicial  arrogance  of  one  who  habitually  issues  direc- 
tions which  he  has  never  himself  been  called  on  to  ex- 
ecute ;  the  dreamy  buoyancy  of  the  stripling  has  taken 
on  a  fatal  sort  of  reality  in  written  pretensions  which 
carry  consequences.  He  is  on  the  way  to  become  like 
the  loud- buzzing,  bouncing  Bombus,  who  combines 
conceited  illusions  enough  to  supply  several  patients 
in  a  lunatic  asylum  with  the  freedom  to  show  himself 
at  large  in  various  forms  of  print.  If  one  who  takes 
himself  for  the  telegraphic  centre  of  all  American 
wires  is  to  be  confined  as  unfit  to  transact  affairs,  what 
shall  we  say  to  the  man  who  believes  himself  in  pos- 
session of  the  unexpressed  motives  and  designs  dwell- 
ing in  the  breasts  of  all  sovereigns  and  all  politicians  ? 
And  I  grieve  to  think  that  poor  Pepin,  though  less 
political,  may  by-and-by  manifest  a  persuasion  hardly 
more  sane,  for  he  is  beginning  to  explain  people's  writ- 
ing by  what  he  does  not  know  about  them.  Tet  he 
was  once  at  the  comparatively  innocent  stage  which  I 


164  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

have  confessed  to  be  that  of  mj-  own  early  astonish- 
ment at  my  powerful  originality;  and  copying  the  just 
humility  of  the  old  Puritan,  I  may  say,  "  But  for  the 
grace  of  discouragement,  this  coxcombry  might  have 
been  mine."' 

Pepin  made  for  himself  a  necessity  of  writing  (and 
getting  printed)  before  he  had  considered  whether  he 
had  the  knowledge  or  belief  that  would  furnish  eligi- 
ble matter.  At  first,  perhaps,  the  necessity  galled  him 
a  little,  but  it  is  now  as  easily  borne,  nay,  is  as  irrepres- 
sible a  habit  as  the  outpourmg  of  inconsiderate  talk. 
He  is  gradually  being  condemned  to  have  no  genuine 
impressions,  no  direct  consciousness  of  enjoyment  or 
the  reverse  from  the  quality  of  what  is  before  him : 
his  perceptions  are  continually  arranging  themselves 
in  forms  suitable  to  a  printed  judgment,  and  hence 
they  will  often  turn  out  to  be  as  much  to  the  purpose 
if  they  are  written  without  any  direct  contemplation 
of  the  object,  and  are  guided  by  a  few  external  condi- 
tions which  serve  to  classify  it  for  him.  In  this  way 
he  is  irrevocably  losing  the  faculty  of  accurate  mental 
vision:  having  bound  himself  to  express  judgments 
which  will  satisfy  some  other  demands  than  that  of 
veracity,  he  has  blunted  his  perceptions  by  continual 
preoccupation.  We  cannot  command  veracity  at  will : 
the  powder  of  seeing  and  reporting  truly  is  a  form  of 
health  that  has  to  be  delicately  guarded,  and  as  an  an- 
cient Rabbi  has  solemnly  said,  "  The  penalty  of  un- 
truth is  untruth,"  But  Pepin  is  only  a  mild  example 
of  the  fact  that  incessant  writing  with  a  view  to  print- 


THE  TOO   READY   WRITER.  165 

iiig  carries  internal  consequences  which  have  often  the 
nature  of  disease.  And  however  unpractical  it  may 
be  held  to  consider  whether  we  have  anything  to  print 
Avhich  it  is  good  for  the  world  to  read,  or  wliicli  has 
not  been  better  said  before,  it  will  perhaps  be  allowed 
to  be  worth  considering  what  effect  the  printing  may 
have  on  ourselves.  Clearly  there  is  a  sort  of  writ- 
ing which  helps  to  keep  the  writer  in  a  ridiculously 
contented  ignorance;  raising  in  him  continually  the 
sense  of  having  delivered  himself  effectively,  so  that 
the  acquirement  of  more  thorough  knowledge  seems 
as  superfluous  as  the  purchase  of  costume  for  a  past 
occasion.  He  has  invested  his  vanity  (perhaps  his 
hope  of  income)  in  his  own  shallownesses  and  mis- 
takes, and  must  desire  their  prosperity.  Like  the  pro- 
fessional prophet,  he  learns  to  be  glad  of  the  harm 
that  keeps  up  his  credit,  and  to  be  sorry  for  the  good 
that  contradicts  him.  It  is  hard  enough  for  any 
of  us,  amidst  the  changing  winds  of  fortune  and  the 
hurly-burly  of  events,  to  keep  quite  clear  of  a  glad- 
ness which  is  another's  calamity ;  but  one  may  choose 
not  to  enter  on  a  course  which  will  turn  such  glad- 
ness into  a  fixed  habit  of  mind,  committing  ourselves 
to  be  continually  pleased  that  others  sliould  appear  to 
be  wrong  in  order  that  we  may  have  t]ie  air  of  being 
right. 

In  some  cases,  perhaps,  it  might  be  ui-ged  that  Pepin 
has  remained  the  more  self- contented  because  he  has 
not  written  everything  he  believed  himself  capable  of. 
lie  once  asked  me  to  read  a  sort  of  programme  of  the 


166  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

species  of  romance  which  he  should  think  it  worth 
while  to  w^'ite  —  a  species  which  he  contrasted  in 
strong  terms  with  the  productions  of  illustrious  but 
overrated  authors  in  this  branch.  Pepin's  romance 
was  to  present  the  splendors  of  the  Roman  Empire  at 
the  culmination  of  its  grandeur,  when  decadence  was 
spiritually  but  not  visibly  inmainent :  it  was  to  show 
the  workings  of  human  passion  in  the  most  pregnant 
and  exalted  of  human  circumstances,  the  designs  of 
statesmen,  the  interfusion  of  philosophies,  the  rural  re- 
laxation and  converse  of  immortal  poets,  the  majestic 
triumphs  of  warriors,  the  mingling  of  the  quaint  and 
sublime  in  religious  ceremony,  the  gorgeous  delirium 
of  gladiatorial  shows,  and  under  all  the  secretly  work- 
ing leaven  of  Christianity.  Such  a  romance  would 
not  call  the  attention  of  society  to  the  dialect  of  stable- 
boys,  the  low  habits  of  rustics,  the  vulgarity  of  small 
school-masters,  the  manners  of  men  in  livery,  or  to  any 
other  form  of  uneducated  talk  and  sentiments:  its 
characters  would  have  virtues  and  vices  alike  on  the 
grand  scale,  and  wonld  express  themselves  in  an  Eng- 
lish representing  the  discourse  of  the  most  powerful 
minds,  in  the  best  Latin,  or  possibly  Greek,  when  there 
occurred  a  scene  witli  a  Greek  philosopher  on  a  visit 
to  Home  or  resident  there  as  a  teacher.  In  this  way 
Pepin  would  do  in  fiction  what  had  never  been  done 
before:  somethino;  not  at  all  like  "Rienzi"  or  "Notre 
Dame  de  Paris,"  or  any  other  attempt  of  that  kind, 
but  something  at  once  more  penetrating  and  more 
magnificent,  more  passionate  and   more  philosophical, 


THE   TOO  EEADY   WRITER.  167 

more  panoramic  yet  more  select :  something  that  would 
present  a  conception  of  a  gigantic  period ;  in  short, 
something  truly  Roman  and  world-liistorical. 

"When  Pepin  gave  me  this  programme  to  read  he 
was  much  younger  than  at  present.  Some  slight  suc- 
cess in  another  vein  diverted  him  from  the  production 
of  panoramic  and  select  romance ;  and  the  experience 
of  not  having  tried  to  carry  out  his  programme  has 
naturally  made  him  more  biting  and  sarcastic  on  the 
failures  of  those  who  have  actually  written  romances 
without  apparently  having  had  a  glimpse  of  a  concep- 
tion equal  to  his.  Indeed,  I  am  often 'comparing  his 
rather  touchingly  inflated  naivete,  as  of  a  small  young 
person  walking  on  tiptoe  while  he  is  talking  of  elevated 
things,  at  the  time  when  he  felt  hnnself  the  author 
of  that  unwritten  romance,  with  his  present  epigram- 
matic curtness  and  aifectation  of  power  kept  strictly 
in  reserve.  His  paragraphs  now  seem  to  have  a  bitter 
smile  in  them,  from  the  consciousness  of  a  mind  too 
penetrating  to  accept  any  other  man's  ideas,  and  too 
equally  competent  in  all  directions  to  seclude  his  power 
in  any  one  form  of  creation,  but  rather  fitted  to  hang 
over  them  all  as  a  lamp  of  guidance  to  the  stumbleis 
below.  You  perceive  how  proud  he  is  of  not  being 
indebted  to  anv  writer:  even  with  the  dead  he  is  on 
the  creditor's  side,  for  he  is  doing  them  the  service  of 
letting  the  world  know  what  they  meant  better  than 
those  poor  pre-Pepinians  themselves  had  any  means 
of  doing,  and  he  treats  the  mighty  shades  very  cava- 
licrlv. 


168  THEOrURASTUS   SUCH. 

Is  this  fellow -citizen  of  ours,  considered  simply  in 
the  light  of  a  baptized  Christian  and  tax-paying  Eng- 
lishman, really  as  madly  conceited,  as  empty  of  rever- 
ential feeling,  as  unveracious  and  careless  of  justice, 
as  full  of  catch-penny  devices  and  stagy  attitudinizing 
as  on  examination  his  writing  shows  itself  to  be?  By 
1:0  means.  He  has  arrived  at  his  present  pass  in  "the 
literary  calling"  through  the  self-imposed  obligation  to 
give  himself  a  manner  which  would  convey  the  im- 
pression of  superior  knowledge  and  ability.  He  is 
much  worthier  and  more  admirable  than  his  written 
productions,  because  the  moral  aspects  exhibited  in  his 
writino;  are  felt  to  be  ridiculous  or  discrraceful  in  the 
pei'sonal  relations  of  life.  In  blaming  Pepin's  writing, 
we  are  accusing  the  public  conscience,  which  is  so  lax 
and  ill-informed  on  the  momentous  bearings  of  author- 
ship that  it  sanctions  the  total  absence  of  scruple  in 
undertaking  and  prosecuting  what  should  be  the  best 
warranted  of  vocations. 

Hence  I  still  accept  friendly  relations  with  Pepin, 
for  he  has  much  private  amiability ;  and  though  lie 
probably  thinks  of  me  as  a  man  of  slender  talents, 
"U'ithout  rapidity  of  coxq^  (r€eil,and  with  no  compeusa- 
toi-y  penetration,  he  meets  me  very  cordially,  and  would 
not,  I  am  sure,  willingly  pain  me  in  conversation  by 
crudely  declaring  his  low  estimate  of  my  capacity. 
Yet  I  have  often  known  him  to  insult  my  betters,  and 
contribute  (perhaps  unreflectingly)  to  encourage  inju- 
rious conceptions  of  them;  but  that  was  done  in  the 
course  of  his  professional  writing,  and  the  public  con- 


THE   TOO    READY    WHITER.  169 

science  still  leaves  such  writing  nearly  on  the  level  of 
the  Merry-Andrew's  dress,  which  permits  an  impudent 
deportment  and  extraordinary  gainbols  to  one  who,  in 
his  ordinary  clothing,  shows  himself  the  decent  father 
of  a  family. 


170  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


XV. 

DISEASES   OF  SMALL  AUTHORSHIP. 

Paktictilae  callings,  it  is  known,  encourage  particu- 
lar diseases.  There  is  a  painter's  colic :  the  Sheffield 
grinder  falls  a  victim  to  the  inhalation  of  steel  dust: 
clerg3^inen  so  often  have  a  certain  kind  of  sore  throat 
that  this  otherwise  secular  ailment  gets  named  after 
them.  And  perhaps,  if  we  were  to  inquire,  we  should 
find  a  similar  relation  between  certain  moral  ailments 
and  these  various  occupations,  though  here  in  the  case 
of  clergymen  there  would  be  specific  differences :  the 
poor  curate,  equally  with  the  rector,  is  liable  to  clergy- 
man's sore  throat,  but  he  would  probably  be  found  free 
from  the  chronic  moral  ailments  encouraged  by  the 
possession  of  glebe  and  those  higher  chances  of  prefer- 
ment which  follow  on  having  a  good  position  already. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  poor  curate  might  have  severe 
attacks  of  calculating  expectancy  concerning  parishion- 
ers' turkeys,  cheeses,  and  fat  geese,  or  of  uneasy  rivalry 
for  the  donations  of  clerical  charities. 

Authors  are  so  miscellaneous  a  class  that  their  per- 
sonified diseases,  physical  and  moral,  might  include  the 
whole  procession  of  human  disorders,  led  by  dyspepsia 
and  ending  in  madness — the  awful  Dumb  Show  of  a 
world-historic  tragedy.     Take  a  large  enongli  area  of 


DISEASES   OF   SMALL    AUTHORSHIP.  171 

linman  life,  and  all  comedy  melts  into  tragedy,  like  the 
Fool's  part  by  the  side  of  Lear.  The  chief  scenes  get 
filled  with  erring  heroes,  guileful  usurpers,  persecuted 
discoverers,  dying  deliverers :  everywhere  the  protago- 
nist has  a  part  pregnant  with  doom.  The  comedy 
sinks  to  an  accessorj'^,  and  if  there  are  loud  laughs  they 
seem  a  convulsive  transition  from  sobs ;  or  if  the  com- 
edy is  touched  with  a  gentle  lovingness,  the  panoramic 
scene  is  one  where 

"Sadness  is  a  kind  of  mirth, 
So  mingled  as  if  mirth  did  make  us  sad 
And  sadness  merry."* 

But  I  did  not  set  out  on  the  wide  survey  that  would 
carry  me  into  tragedy,  and,  in  fact,  had  nothing  more 
serious  in  my  mind  than  certain  small  chronic  ailments 
that  come  of  small  authorship.  I  was  thinking  prin- 
cipally of  Vorticella,  who  flourished  in  my  youth,  not 
onl}'  as  a  portly  lady  walking  in  silk  attire  but  also  as 
the  authoress  of  a  book  entitled  "  The  Channel  Islands, 
with  Notes  and  an  Appendix."  I  would  by  no  means 
make  it  a  reproach  to  her  that  she  wrote  no  more  than 
one  book ;  on  the  contrary,  her  stopping  there  seems  to 
me  a  laudable  example.  What  one  would  have  wish- 
ed, after  experience,  was  that  she  had  refrained  from 
producing  even  that  single  volume,  and  thus  from  giv- 
ing her  self-importance  a  troublesome  kind  of  double 
incorporation  which  became  oppressive  to  her  acquaint- 
ances, and  set  up  in  herself  one  of  those  slight  chronic 

*  Two  Noble  Kinsmen. 


172  ,   THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

forms  of  disease  to  which  I  have  just  referred.  She 
lived  in  the  considerable  provincial  tovt^n  of  Pumpiter, 
which  had  its  own  newspaper  press,  with  the  usual  di- 
visions of  political  partisanship  and  the  usual  varieties 
of  literary  criticism— the  florid  and  allusive,  the  stac- 
cato and  peremptory,  the  clairvoyant  and  prophetic,  the 
safe  and  pattern-phrased,  or  what  one  might  call  "  the 
many-a-long-day  style." 

Vorticella,  being  the  wife  of  an  important  townsman, 
had  naturally  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  "  The  Channel 
Islands"  reviewed  by  all  the  organs  of  Pumpiter  opin- 
ion, and  their  articles  or  paragraphs  held  as  naturally 
the  opening  pages  in  the  elegai;itly  bound  album  pre^ 
pared  by  her  for  the  reception  of  "  critical  opinions." 
This  ornamental  volume  lay  on  a  special  table  in  her 
drawing-room,  close  to  the  still  more  gorgeously  bound 
work  of  which  it  was  the  significant  effect,  and  every 
guest  was  allowed  the  privilege  of  reading  what  had 
been  said  of  the  authoress  and  her  work  in  the  Pump- 
iter Gazette  and  Literary  Watchman,  the  Pumpshire 
Post,  the  Church  ClocJc,  the  Independent  Monitor,  and 
the  lively  but  judicious  publication  known  as  the  Med- 
ley Pie ;  to  be  followed  up,  if  he  chose,  by  the  in- 
structive perusal  of  the  strikingly  confirmatory  judg- 
ments, sometimes  concurrent  in  the  very  phrases,  of 
journals  from  the  most  distant  counties — as  the  Latch- 
gate  Argus,  the  Penllwy  Universe,  the  CocJcaleeMe  Ad- 
vertiser, the  Goodwin  Sands  Opinion,  and  the  Land^s 
End  Times. 

I  had  friends  in  Pumpiter,  and  occasionally  paid  a 


DISEASES   OF   SMALL   AUTHORSHIP.  173 

long  visit  there.  When  I  called  on  Vorticella,  who 
had  a  cousinship  with  my  hosts,  she  had  to  excuse  her- 
self because  a  message  claimed  her  attention  for  eight 
or  ten  minutes ;  and  handing  me  the  album  of  critical 
opinions,  said,  with  a  certain  emphasis  which,  consid- 
ering my  youth,  was  highly  complimentary,  that  she 
would  really  like  me  to  read  what  I  should  find  there. 
This  seemed  a  permissive  politeness  which  I  could  not 
feel  to  be  an  oppression,  and  I  ran  my  eyes  over  the 
dozen  pages,  each  with  a  strip  or  islet  of  newspaper  in 
the  centre,  with  that  freedom  of  mind  (in  my  case 
meaning  freedom  to  forget)  which  would  be  a  perilous 
way  of  preparing  for  examination.  This  ad  libitinn. 
perusal  had  its  interest  for  me.  The  private  truth 
being  that  I  had  not  read  "The  Channel  Islands,"  I 
was  amazed  at  the  variety  of  matter  which  the  vol- 
ume must  contain  to  have  impressed  these  different 
judges  with  the  writer's  surpassing  capacity  to  handle 
almost  all  branches  of  inquiry  and  all  forms  of  presen- 
tation. In  Jersey  she  had  shown  herself  a  historian, 
in  Guernsey  a  poetess,  in  Alderney  a  political  econo- 
mist, and  in  Sark  a  humorist.  There  were  sketches  of 
character  scattered  through  the  pages  which  might  put 
our  "  fictionists  "  to  the  blush ;  the  style  was  eloquent 
and  racy,  studded  with  gems  of  felicitous  remark ;  and 
the  moral  spirit  throughout  was  so  superior  that,  said 
one,  "  the  recording  angel "  (who  is  not  supposed  to 
take  account  of  literature  as  such)  "  would  assuredly 
set  down  the  work  as  a  deed  of  religion."  The  force 
of  this  eulogy  on   the  part  of  several  reviewers  was 


174  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

much  heightened  by  the  incidental  evidence  of  their 
fastidious  and  severe  taste,  which  seemed  to  suffer  con- 
siderably from  the  imperfections  of  our  chief  writers, 
even  the  dead  and  canonized  :  one  afflicted  them  with 
the  smell  of  oil  ;  another  lacked  erudition,  and  at- 
tempted (though  vainly)  to  dazzle  them  with  trivial 
conceits ;  one  wanted  to  be  more  philosophical  than 
nature  had  made  him ;  another,  in  attempting  to  be 
comic,  produced  the  melancholy  effect  of  a  half-starved 
Merr}'- Andrew  ;  while  one  and  all,  from  the  author 
of  the  "Areopagitica"  downward,  had  faults  of  style 
which  must  have  made  an  able  hand  in  the  Latchgate 
Argus  shake  the  many-glanced  head  belonging  there- 
to with  a  smile  of  compassionate  disapproval.  Not  so 
the  authoress  of  "  The  Channel  Islands ;"  Vorticella  and 
Shakspeare  were  allowed  to  be  faultless.  I  gathered 
that  no  blemishes  were  observable  in  the  work  of  this 
accomplished  writer,  and  tlie  repeated  information  tliat 
she  was  "  second  to  none  "  seemed  after  this  superflu- 
ous. Her  tliick  octavo — notes,  appendix,  and  all — was 
unflao-o-ino;  fi-om  beffinnino-  to  end  ;  and  the  Land's 
£nd  Times,  using  a  rather  dangerous  rhetorical  fig- 
ure, recommended  you  not  to  take  up  the  volume  un- 
less you  had  leisure  to  finish  it  at  a  sitting.  It  had 
given  one  writer  more  pleasure  than  he  had  had  for 
many  a  long  day — a  sentence  which  had  a  melancholy 
resonance,  suggesting  a  life  of  studious  languor  such 
as  all  previous  achievements  of  the  human  mind  failed 
to  stimulate  into  enjoyment.  I  think  the  collection  of 
critical  opinions  wound  up  with  this  sentence,  and  I 


DISEASES   OF   SMALL   AUTHORSHIP.  175 

had  turned  back  to  look  at  the  lithographed  sketch  of 
the  authoress  which  fronted  the  first  page  of  the  al- 
bum, when  the  fair  original  re-entered,  and  I  laid 
down  the  volume  on  its  appropriate  table. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  them  ?"  said  Yorticella, 
with  an  emphasis  which  had  some  significance  nn- 
perceived  by  me.  "I  know  you  are  a  great  student. 
Give  me  ijout  opinion  of  these  opinions." 

"  They  must  be  very  gratifying  to  you,"  I  answered, 
with  a  little  confusion ;  for  I  perceived  that  I  might 
easily  mistake  my  footing,  and  I  began  to  have  a  pre- 
sentiment of  an  examination  for  which  I  was  by  no 
means  crammed. 

"  On  the  whole — yes,"  said  Vorticella,  in  a  tone  of  con- 
cession. "A  few  of  the  notices  are  written  with  some 
pains,  but  not  one  of  them  has  really  grappled  with  the 
chief  idea  in  the  appendix.  I  don't  know  whether  you 
have  studied  political  economy,  but  you  saw  what  I  said 
on  page  398  about  the  Jersey  fisheries  ?" 

I  bowed — I  confess  it — with  the  mean  hope  tliat  this 
movement  in  the  nape  of  my  neck  would  be  taken  as 
sufficient  proof  that  I  had  read,  marked,  and  learned. 
I  do  not  forgive  myself  for  this  pantomimic  falsehood, 
but  I  was  young  and  morally  timorous,  and  Vorticella's 
personality  had  an  effect  on  me  something  like  that  of 
a  powerful  mesmerizer  when  he  directs  all  his  ten  fin- 
gers toward  your  eyes,  as  unpleasantly  visible  ducts  for 
the  invisible  stream.  I  felt  a  great  power  of  contempt 
in  her  if  I  did  not  come  up  to  her  expectations. 

"  Well,"  she  resumed,  "  you  observe  that  not  one  of 


176  TIIEOrilRASTUS   SUCH. 

them  lias  taken  up  that  argument;  but  I  hope  I  con- 
vinced you  about  the  drag-nets  ?" 

Here  was  a  judgment  on  me.  Orientally  speaking, 
I  had  lifted  up  my  foot  on  the  steep  descent  of  falsity, 
and  was  compelled  to  set  it  down  on  a  lower  level. 
"  I  should  think  you  must  be  right,"  said  I,  inwardly 
resolving  that  on  the  next  topic  I  would  tell  the  truth. 

"  I  hnow  that  I  am  right,"  said  Vorticella.  "  The 
fact  is  that  no  critic  in  this  town  is  fit  to  meddle  with 
such  subjects  unless  it  be  Volvox,  and  he,  with  all  his 
command  of  language,  is  very  superficial.  It  is  Vol- 
vox who  writes  in  the  Monitor.  I  hope  you  noticed 
how  he  contradicts  himself  T 

My  resolution,  helped  by  the  equivalence  of  dangers, 
stoutly  prevailed,  and  I  said  "  N^o." 

"  No  !  I  am  surprised.  He  is  the  only  one  who 
finds  fault  with  me.  He  is  a  Dissenter,  you  know. 
The  Monitor  is  the  Dissenters'  organ,  but  my  husband 
has  been  so  useful  to  them  in  municipal  affairs  that 
they  would  not  venture  to  run  my  book  down ;  they 
feel  obliged  to  tell  the  truth  about  me.  Still,  Volvox 
betrays  hiuiself.  After  praising  me  for  my  penetra- 
tion and  accuracy,  he  presently  says  I  have  allowed 
myself  to  be  imposed  upon,  and  have  let  my  active  im- 
agination run  away  with  me.  That  is  like  his  dissent- 
ing impertinence.  Active  my  imagination  may  be,  but 
I  have  it  under  control.  Little  Vibrio,  who  writes  the 
playful  notice  in  the  Medley  Pie,  has  a  clever  hit  at 
Volvox  in  that  passage  about  the  steeple-chase  of  im- 
agination, where  the  loser  wants  to  make  it  appear  that 


DISEASiiB   OF   SMALL   AUTHORSHIP.  177 

the  winner  was  only  run  away  with.  But  if  yon  did 
not  notice  Volvox's  self-contradiction  you  would  not 
see  the  point,"  added  Yorticella,  with  rather  a  chilling 
intonation.  "  Or  perhaps  you  did  not  read  the  Medley 
Pie  notice  ?  That  is  a  pity.  Do  take  up  the  book 
again.  Vibrio  is  a  poor  little  tippling  creature,  but,  as 
Mr.  Carlyle  would  say,  he  has  an  eye,  and  he  is  always 
lively."  "^ 

I  did  take  up  the  book  again,  and  read  as  demanded. 

"  It  is  very  ingenious,"  said  I,  really  appreciating  the 
difficulty  of  being  lively  in  this  connection :  it  seemed 
even  more  wonderful  than  that  a  Vibrio  should  have 
an  eye. 

"  You  are  probably  surprised  to  see  no  notices  from 
the  London  press,"  said  Vorticella.  "  I  have  one — a 
very  remarkable  one — but  I  reserve  it  until  the  otliers 
have  spoken,  and  then  I  shall  introduce  it  to  wind  np. 
I  shall  have  them  reprinted,  of  course,  and  inserted  in 
future  copies.  This  from  the  Candelabrum  is  only 
eight  lines  in  length,  but  full  of  venom.  It  calls  my 
style  dull  and  pompous.  I  think  that  will  tell  its  own 
tale,  placed  after  the  other  cintiquesP 

"  People's  impressions  are  so  different,"  said  I. 
"Some  persons  find  'Don  Quixote  dull.'" 

"  Yes,"  said  Vorticella,  in  emphatic  chest  tones, 
"dulness  is  a  matter  of  opinion;  but  pompous!  That 
I  never  was  and  never  could  be.  Pei-haps  he  means 
that  my  matter  is  too  important  for  his  taste ;  and  I 
have  no  objection  to  that.  I  did  not  intend  to  be  triv- 
ial,    I  should  jnst  like  to  read  you  that  passage  about 


178  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

the   drag-nets,  because   I   could   make   it   clearer  to 

you." 

A  second  (less  ornamental)  copy  was  at  her  elbow 
and  was  already  opened,  when  to  my  great  relief  an^ 
other  guest  was  announced,  and  I  was  able  to  take  my 
leave  without  seeming  to  run  away  from  "The  Chan- 
nel Islands,"  though  not  without  being  compelled  to 
carry  with  me  the  loan  of  "  the  marked  coi:)y,"  which 
I  was  to  find  advantageous  in  a  re-perusal  of  the  ap- 
pendix, and  was  only  requested  to  return  before  my 
departure  from  Pumpiter.  Looking  into  the  volume 
now  with  some  curiosity,  I  found  it  a  very  ordinary 
combination  of  the  commonplace  and  ambitious — one 
of  those  books  which  one  might  imagine  to  have  been 
written  under  the  old  Grub  Street  coercion  of  hunger 
and  tliirst,  if  they  were  not  known  beforehand  to  be 
the  gratuitous  productions  of  ladies  and  gentlemen 
whose  circumstances  might  be  called  altogether  easy, 
but  for  an  uneasy  vanity  that  happened  to  have  been 
directed  toward  authorship.  Its  importance  was  that 
of  a  polypus,  tumor,  fungus,  or  other  erratic  outgrowth, 
noxious  and  disfio^urino;  in  its  effect  on  the  individual 
organism  which  nourishes  it.  Poor  Yorticella  might 
not  have  been  more  wearisome  on  a  visit  than  the  ma- 
jority of  her  neighbors,  but  for  this  disease  of  mag- 
nified self-importance  belonging  to  small  authoi'ship. 
I  understand  that  the  chronic  complaint  of  "  The  Chan- 
nel Islands"  never  left  her.  As  the  years  went  on, 
and  the  publication  tended  to  vani-sli  in  the  distance 
for  her  neighbors'  memory,  she  was  still  bent  on  drag- 


DISEASES   OF   SMALL   AUTHORSHIP.  l79 

ging  it  to  the  foreground ;  and  her  chief  interest  in 
new  ficqnuintaHces  was  the  possibility  of  lending  them 
her  book,  entering  into  all  details  concerning  it,  and 
requesting  them  to  read  her  album  of  "  critical  opin- 
ions." This  really  made  her  more  tiresome  than 
Gregarina,  whose  distinction  was  that  she  had  had 
cholera,  and  who  did  not  feel  herself  in  her  true  posi- 
tion with  strancrers  nntil  thev  knew  it. 

My  experience  with  Vorticella  led  me  for  a  time 
into  the  false  supposition  that  this  sort  of  fungous  dis- 
figuration, which  makes  Self  disagreeably  largei',  was 
most  common  to  the  female  sex  ;  but  I  presently  found 
that  here  too  the  male  could  assert  his  superiority  and 
show  a  more  viijorous  boredom.  I  have  known  a  man 
with  a  sii]gle  pamphlet  containing  an  assurance  that 
somebody  else  was  wrong,  together  with  a  few  ap- 
proved quotations,  produce  a  more  powerful  effect  of 
shuddering  at  his  approach  than  ever  Vorticella  did 
with  her  varied  octavo  volume,  including  notes  and  ap- 
pendix. Males  of  more  than  one  nation  recur  to  my 
memory  who  produced  from  their  pocket  on  the  slight- 
est encouragement  a  small  pink  or  buff  duodecimo  pam- 
phlet, wrapped  in  silver  paper,  as  a  present  held  ready 
for  an  intelligent  reader.  "A  mode  of  propagandism," 
you  remark  in  excuse ;  "  they  wished  to  spread  some 
useful  corrective  doctrine."  Xot  necessarily :  tlie  in- 
doctrination aimed  at  was  perhaps  to  convince  you  of 
their  own  talents  by  the  sample  of  an  "  Ode  on  Shak- 
speare's  Birthday,"  or  a  translation  from  Horace." 

Yorticella  may  pair  off  with  Monas,  who  had  also 


180  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

written  his  one  book  —  "Here  and  There;  or,  a  Trip 
from  Truro  to  Transylvania  " — and  not  only  carried  it 
in  his  portmanteau  when  he  went  on  visits,  but  took  the 
earliest  opportunity  of  depositing  it  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  afterward  would  enter  to  look  for  it,  as  if  under 
pressure  of  a  need  for  reference,  begging  the  lady  of 
the  house  to  tell  him  whether  she  had  seen  "a  small 
volume  bound  in  red."  One  hostess  at  last  ordered  it 
to  be  carried  into  his  bedroom  to  save  his  time;  but  it 
presently  reappeared  in  his  hands,  and  was  again  left 
with  insei'ted  slips  of  paper  on  the  drawing-room  table. 
Depend  upon  it,  vanity  is  human  —  native  alike  to 
men  and  women ;  only  in  the  male  it  is  of  denser 
texture,  less  volatile,  so  that  it  less  immediately  informs 
you  of  its  presence,  but  is  more  massive  and  capable 
of  knocking  you  down  if  you  come  into  collision  with 
it ;  while  in  women  vanity  lays  by  its  small  revenges 
as  in  a  needle-case  always  at  hand.  The  difference  is 
in  muscle  and  finger-tips,  in  traditional  habits  and 
mental  perspective,  rather  tlian  in  the  original  appetite 
of  vanity.  It  is  an  approved  method  now  to  explain 
ourselves  by  a  reference  to  the  races  as  little  like  us 
as  possible,  which  leads  me  to  observe  that  in  Fiji  tlie 
men  use  the  most  elaborate  hair -dressing,  and  that 
wherever  tattooing  is  in  vogue  the  male  expects  to 
carry  off  the  prize  of  admiration  for  pattei'u  and  work- 
manship). Arguing  analogically,  and  looking  for  this 
tendency  of  the  Fijian  or  Ilawaian  male  in  the  emi- 
nent European,  we  must  suppose  that  it  exhibits  itself 
under  the  forms  of  civilized  a})parel ;  and  it  would  be 


DISEASES   OF  SMALL   AUTHORSHIP.  181 

a  great  mistake  to  estimate  passionate  effort  by  the 
effect  it  produces  on  onr  perception  or  understanding. 
It  is  conceivable  that  a  man  may  have  concentrated  no 
less  Mall  and  expectation  on  his  wristbands,  gaiters,  and 
the  shape  of  his  hat-brim,  or  an  appearance  which  im- 
presses jou  as  that  of  the  modern  "swell,"  than  the 
Ojibbeway  on  an  ornamentation  which  seems  to  us 
much  more  elaborate.  In  what  concerns  the  search 
for  admiration,  at  least,  it  is  not  true  that  the  effect  is 
equal  to  the  cause  and  resembles  it.  The  cause  of  a 
flat  curl  on  the  masculine  forehead,  such  as  might  be 
seen  when  George  the  Fourth  was  king,  must  have 
been  widely  different  in  quality  and  intensity  from  the 
impression  made  by  that  small  scroll  of  hair  on  the 
organ  of  the  beholder.  Merely  to  maintain  an  attitude 
and  gait  which  I  notice  in  certain  club  men,  and  espe- 
cially an  inflation  of  the  chest  accompanying  very 
small  remarks,  there  goes,  I  am  convinced,  an  expendi- 
ture of  psychical  energy  little  appreciated  by  the  mul- 
titude— a  mental  vision  of  Self  and  deeply  impressed 
beholders,  which  is  quite  without  antitype  in  what  we 
call  the  effect  produced  by  that  hidden  process. 

No!  there  is  no  need  to  admit  that  women  would 
carry  away  the  prize  of  vanity  in  a  competition  where 
differences  of  custom  were  fairly  considered.  A  man 
cannot  show  his  vanity  in  a  tight  skirt  which  forces 
him  to  walk  sideways  down  the  staircase;  but  let  tlio 
match  be  between  the  respective  vanities  of  largest 
beard  and  tightest  skirt,  and  here  too  the  battle  would 
be  to  the  strong. 


1S2  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 


XVI. 

MORAL  SWINDLERS. 

It  is  a  familiar  example  of  irony  in  the  degradation 
of  words  that  "what  a  man  is  worth"  has  come  to 
mean  how  much  money  he  possesses;  but  there  seems 
a  deeper  and  more  melancholy  irony  in  the  shrunken 
meaning  that  popular  or  polite  speech  assigns  to  "  mo- 
rality "  and  "  morals."  The  poor  part  these  words  are 
made  to  play  recalls  the  fate  of  those  pagan  divinities 
who,  after  being  understood  to  rule  the  powers  of  the 
air  and  the  destinies  of  men,  came  down  to  the  level 
of  insignificant  demons,  or  were  even  made  a  farcical 
show  for  the  amusement  of  the  multitude. 

Talking  to  Melissa  in  a  time  of  commercial  trouble, 
I  found  her  disposed  to  speak  pathetically  of  the  dis- 
grace which  had  fallen  on  Sir  Gavial  Mantrap,  because 
of  his  conduct  in  relation  to  the  Eocene  Mines,  and 
to  other  companies  ingeniously  devised  by  him  for  tlie 
punishment  of  ignorance  in  people  of  small  means :  a 
disgrace  by  which  the  poor  titled  gentleman  was  act- 
ually reduced  to  live  in  comparative  obscurity  on  his 
wife's  settlement  of  one  or  two  hundred  thousand  in 
the  consols. 

"  Surely  your  pity  is  misappHed,"  said  I,  rather  du- 
biously, for  I  like  the  comfort  of  trusting  that  a  cor- 


MORAL   SWINDLERS.  183 

rect  moral  judgment  is  the  strong  point  in  woman 
(seeing  that  she  has  a  majority  of  about  a  million  in 
our  islands),  and  I  imagined  that  Melissa  might  have 
some  unexpressed  grounds  for  her  opinion.  "  I  should 
have  thought  you  would  rather  be  sorry  for  Mantrap's 
victims  —  the  widows,  spinsters,  and  hard-working  fa- 
thers whom  his  unscrupulous  haste  to  make  himself 
rich  has  cheated  of  all  their  savings,  while  he  is  eating 
well,  lying  softly,  and,  after  impudently  justifying  him- 
self before  the  public,  is  perhaps  joining  in  the  Gen- 
eral Confession  with  a  sense  that  he  is  an  acceptable 
object  in  the  sight  of  God,  though  decent  men  refuse 
to  meet  him." 

"  Oh,  all  that  about  the  Companies,  I  know,  was  most 
unfortunate.  In  commerce  people  are  led  to  do  so 
many  things,  and  he  might  not  know  exactly  how  ev- 
erything would  turn  out.  But  Sir  Gavial  made  a  good 
use  of  his  money,  and  he  is  a  thoroughly  moral  man." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  a  thorouglily  moral  man  ?" 

said  I. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  every  one  means  the  same  by  that," 
said  Melissa,  with  a  slight  air  of  rebuke.  "  Sir  Gavial 
is  an  excellent  family  man  —  quite  blameless  there; 
and  so  charitable  round  his  place  at  Tip-top.  Yery  dif- 
ferent from  Mr.  Barabbas,  whose  life,  my  husband  tells 
me,  is  most  objectionable,  with  actresses  and  that  sort 
of  thing.  I  think  a  man's  morals  should  make  a  dif- 
ference to  us.  I'm  not  sorry  for  Mr.  Barabbas,  but  / 
am  sorry  for  Sir  Gavial  Mantrap." 

I  will  not  repeat  my  answer  to  Melissa,  for  I  fear 


18-i  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

it  was  offensively  brusque,  my  opinion  being  that  Sir 
Gavial  was  the  more  peinicious  scoundrel  of  the  two, 
since  his  name  for  virtue  served  as  an  effective  part  of 
a  swindling  apparatus;  and  perhaps  I  hinted  that  to 
call  such  a  man  moral  showed  rather  a  silly  notion  of 
human  affairs.  In  fact,  I  had  an  angry  wish  to  be  in- 
structive, and  Melissa,  as  will  sometimes  liappen,  no- 
ticed my  anger  without  appropriating  my  instruction ; 
for  I  have  since  lieard  that  she  speaks  of  me  as  rather 
violent- tempered,  and  not  over -strict  in  my  views  of 
morality. 

I  wish  that  this  narrow  use  of  words  which  are 
wanted  in  their  full  meaning  were  confined  to  women 
like  Melissa.  Seeing  that  Morality  and  Morals,  under 
tlieir  alias  of  Ethics,  are  the  subject  of  voluminous  dis- 
cussion, and  their  true  basis  a  pressing  matter  of  dis- 
pute— seeing  that  the  most  famous  book  ever  written 
on  Ethics,  and  foi'mins::  a  chief  studv  in  onr  colleges, 
allies  ethical  with  political  science,  or  that  which  treats 
of  the  constitution  and  prosperity  of  States,  one  might 
expect  that  educated  men  would  find  reason  to  avoid  a 
perversion  of  language  wliicli  lends  itself  to  no  wider 
view  of  life  than  that  of  village  gossips.  Yet  I  find 
even  rcspectal)le  lu'storians  of  our  own  and  of  foreign 
countries,  after  showing  that  a  king  M'as  treacherous, 
rapacious,  and  ready  to  sanction  gross  breaches  in  the 
administration  of  justice,  end  by  praising  him  for  his 
pure  moral  character,  by  wliich  one  must  suppose  them 
to  mean  that  he  was  not  lewd  nor  debauched,  not  the 
Enro]iean  twin  of  tlie  typical  Indian  potentate  whom 


MORAL   SWINDLERS.  185 

Macanlaj  describes  as  passing  his  life  in  chewing  bang 
and  fondling  dancing-girls.  And  since  we  are  some- 
times told  of  such  maleficent  kings  that  they  were 
religious,  we  arrive  at  the  curious  result  that  the  most 
serious  wide-reaching  duties  of  man  lie  quite  outside 
both  Morality  and  Religion — the  one  of  these  consist- 
ing in  not  keeping  mistresses  (and  perhaps  not  drink- 
ing too  much),  and  the  other  in  certain  ritual  and  spir- 
itual transactions  with  God,  which  can  be  carried  on 
equally  well  side  by  side  with  the  basest  conduct  to- 
ward men.  With  such  a  classification  as  this  it  is  no 
wonder,  considering  the  strong  reaction  of  language  on 
thought,  that  many  minds,  dizzy  with  indigestion  of  re- 
cent science  and  philosophy,  are  far  to  seek  fur  tlie 
grounds  of  social  duty,  and  without  entertaining  any 
private  intention  of  committing  a  perjury  wliic:li  would 
ruin  an  innocent  man,  or  seeking  gain  by  supplying 
bad  preserved  meats  to  our  navy,  feel  themselves  spec- 
ulatively obliged  to  inquire  why  they  should  not  do  so, 
and  are  inclined  to  measure  their  intellectual  subtlety 
by  their  dissatisfaction  with  all  answers  to  this  "  Why  ?" 
It  is  of  little  use  to  theorize  in  ethics  while  our  habit- 
ual phraseology  stamps  the  larger  part  of  our  social 
duties  as  something  that  lies  aloof  from  the  deepest 
needs  and  affections  of  our  nature.  The  informal 
definitions  of  populaT  language  are  the  only  medium 
through  which  theory  really  affects  the  mass  of  minds, 
even  among  the  nominally  educated  ;  and  when  a  man 
whose  business  hours,  the  solid  part  of  every  day,  are 
spent  in  an  unscrupulous  course  of  public  or  private 


186  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

action  which  has  every  calculable  chance  of  causing 
wide-spread  injury  and  misery,  can  be  called  moral  be- 
cause he  comes  home  to  dine  with  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren and  cherishes  the  happiness  of  his  own  heartli, 
the  augury  is  not  good  for  the  use  of  high  ethical  and 
theological  disputation. 

Not  for  one  moment  would  one  willingly  lose  siglit 
of  the  truth  that  the  relation  of  the  sexes  and  the  pri- 
mary ties  of  kinship  are  the  deepest  roots  of  human 
well-being,  but  to  make  them  by  themselves  the  equiv- 
alent of  morality  is  verbally  to  cut  off  the  channels  of 
feeling  through  which  they  are  the  feeders  of  that 
well-being.  They  are  the  original  fountains  of  a  sen- 
sibility to  the  claims  of  others,  which  is  the  bond  of 
societies;  but  being  necessarily  in  the  first  instance  a 
private  good,  there  is  always  the  danger  tliat  individual 
selfishness  will  see  in  them  only  the  best  part  of  its 
own  gain;  just  as  knowledge,  navigation,  commerce, 
and  all  the  conditions  which  are  of  a  nature  to  awaken 
men's  consciousness  of  their  mutual  dependence  and  to 
make  the  world  one  great  society,  are  the  occasions  of 
selfish,  unfair  action,  of  war  and  oppression,  so  long  as 
the  public  conscience  or  chief  force  of  feeling  and 
opinion  is  not  uniform  and  strong  enough. in  its  insist- 
ance  on  what  is  demanded  by  the  general  welfare. 
And  among  the  influences  thaf  must  retard  a  right 
public  judgment,  the  degradation  of  words  which  in- 
volve praise  and  blame  will  be  reckoned  worth  protest- 
ing against  by  every  mature  observer.  To  rob  words 
of  half  their  meaning,  while  they  retain  tlieir  dignity 


MORAL   SWINDLERS.  187 

as  qualifications,  is  like  allowing  to  men  who  have  lost 
half  their  faculties  the  same  high  and  perilous  com- 
mand which  they  won  in  tlieir  time  of  vigor,  or  like 
selling  food  and  seeds  after  fraudulently  abstracting 
their  best  virtues  :  in  each  case  what  ought  to  be  benefi- 
cently strong  is  fatally  enfeebled,  if  not  empoisoned. 
Until  we  have  altered  our  dictionaries  and  have  found 
some  other  word  than  morality  to  stand  in  popular  use 
for  the  duties  of  man  to  man,  let  us  refuse  to  accept  as 
moral  the  conti'actor  who  enriches  himself  by  using 
large  machinery  to  make  pasteboard  soles  pass  as 
leather  for  the  feet  of  unhappy  conscripts  fighting  at 
miserable  odds  ao-ainst  invaders  :  let  us  rather  call  him 
a  miscreant,  though  he  were  the  tenderest,  most  faith- 
ful of  husbands,  and  contend  that  his  own  experience 
of  home  happiness  makes  his  reckless  infliction  of  suf- 
fering: on  others  all  the  more  atrocious.     Let  us  refuse 

CD 

to  accept  as  moral  any  political  leader  who  should  al- 
low his  conduct  in  relation  to  great  issues  to  be  de- 
termined by  egoistic  passion,  and  boldly  say  that  he 
would  be  less  immoral,  even  though  he  were  as  lax  in 
his  personal  habits  as  Sir  Robert  "Walpole,  if  at  the 
same  time  his  sense  of  the  public  welfare  were  su- 
preme in  his  mind,  quelling  all  pettier  impulses  be- 
neath a  magnanimous  impartiality.  And  though  we 
were  to  find  among  that  class  of  journalists  who  live 
by  recklessly  reporting  injurious  rumors,  insinuating 
the  blackest  motives  in  opponents,  descanting  at  large 
and  with  an  air  of  infallibility  on  dreams  which  they 
both  find  and  interpret,  and  stimulating  bad  feeling 


188  .THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

between  nations  by  abusive  writing,  whicli  is  as  empty 
of  real  conviction  as  tlie  rage  of  a  pantomime  kino- 
and  would  be  ludicrous  if  its  effects  did  not  make  it 
appear  diabolical — though  we  were  to  find  among  these 
a  man  w^ho  was  benignancy  itself  in  his  own  circle 
a  healer  of  private  differences,  a  sootlier  in  private 
calamities,  let  us  pronounce  him  nevertheless  flagrantly- 
immoral — a  root  of  hideous  cancer  in  the  common- 
wealth, turning  the  channels  of  instruction  into  feeders 
of  social  and  political  disease. 

In  opposite  ways  one  sees  bad  effects  likely  to  be  en- 
couraged by  this  narrow  use  of  the  word  morals,  shut- 
ting out  from  its  meaning  half  those  actions  of  a  man's 
life  which  tell  momentously  on  the  well-being  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  and  on  the  preparation  of  a  future  for 
the  children  growing  up  around  him.     Thoroughness 
of  workmanship,  care  in  the  execution  of  every  task 
undertaken,  as   if  it  were  the  acceptance  of  a  trust 
which  it  would  be  a  breach  of  faith  not  to  discharo-e 
well,  is  a  form  of  duty  so  momentous  that  if  it  were  to 
die  out  from  the  feeling  and  practice  of  a  people,  all 
reforms  of  institutions  would  be  helpless  to  create  na- 
tional prosperity  and  national  happiness.     Do  we  de- 
sire to  see  public  spirit  penetrating  all  classes  of  the 
community  and  affecting  every  man's  conduct,  so  that 
he  shall  make  neither  the  saving  of  his  soul  nor  any 
other  private  saving  an  excuse  for  indifference  to  the 
general  welfare?     Well  and  good.      But  the  sort  of 
public    spirit   that   scamps    its    bread -winning  work, 
whetlier  with   the  trowel,  the   pen,  or  the  overseeing 


MORAL   SWINDLERS.  189 

brain,  that  it  may  hnriy  to  scenes  of  political  or  social 
agitation,  would  be  as  baleful  a  gift  to  our  people  as 
any  malignant  demon  could  devise.  One  best  part  of 
educational  training  is  that  which  comes  through  spe- 
cial knowledge  and  manipulative  or  other  skill,  with  its 
usual  accompaniment  of  delight,  in  relation  to  work 
which  is  the  daily  bread-winning  occupation — which  is 
a  man's  contribution  to  the  effective  wealth  of  society 
in  return  for  what  he  takes  as  his  own  share.  But  this 
duty  of  doing  one's  proper  work  well,  and  taking  care 
that  every  product  of  one's  labor  shall  be  genuinely 
what  it  pretends  to  be,  is  not  only  left  out  of  morals  in 
popular  speech,  it  is  very  little  insisted  on  by  public 
teachers,  at  least  in  the  only  effective  way — by  tracing 
the  continuous  effects  of  ill-done  work.  Some  of  them 
seem  to  be  still  hopeful  that  it  will  follow  as  a  neces- 
sary consequence  from  week-day  services,  ecclesiastical 
decoration,  and  improved  hymn-books  ;  others  appar- 
ently trust  to  descanting  on  self-culture  in  general,  or 
to  raising  a  general  sense  of  faulty  circumstances ;  and 
meanwhile  lax,  makeshift  work,  from  the  high  conspic- 
uous kind  to  the  average  and  obscure,  is  allowed  to  pass 
unstamped  with  the  disgrace  of  immorality,  though 
there  is  not  a  member  of  society  who  is  not  daily  suf- 
fering from  it  materially  and  spiritually,  and  though  it 
is  the  fatal  cause  that  must  degrade  our  national  rank 
and  our  commerce,  in  spite  of  all  open  markets  and  dis- 
covery of  available  coal  seams.' 

I  suppose  one  may  take  the  popular  misuse  of  the 
words  Morality  and  Morals  as  some  excuse  for  certain 


190  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

absurdities  wliicli  are  occasional  fashions  in  speech  and 
■writing — certain  old  laj-figures,  as  ngly  as  the  queerest 
Asiatic  idol,  which  at  different  periods  get  propped  into 
loftiness,  and  attired  in  magnificent  Venetian  drapery, 
so  that  whether  they  have  a  human  face  or  not  is  of 
little  consequence.  One  is,  the  notion  that  tliere  is  a 
radical,  irreconcilable  opposition  between  intellect  and 
morality.  I  do  not  mean  the  simple  statement  of  fact, 
which  everybody  knows,  that  remarkably  able  men 
have  had  very  faulty  morals,  and  have  outraged  public 
feeling  even  at  its  ordinary  standard ;  but  the  suppo- 
sition that  the  ablest  intellect,  the  highest  genius,  will 
see  through  morality  as  a  sort  of  twaddle  for  bibs  and 
tuckers,  a  doctrine  of  dulness,  a  mere  incident  in  hu- 
man stupidity.  We  begin  to  understand  the  accept- 
ance of  this  foolishness  by  considering  that  we  live  in 
a  society  where  we  may  hear  a  treacherous  monarch, 
or  a  malignant  and  lying  politician,  or  a  man  who  uses 
either  official  or  literary  power  as  an  instrument  of  his 
private  partiality  or  hatred,  or  a  manufacturer  who  de- 
vises the  falsification  of  wares,  or  a  trader  who  deals  in 
virtueless  seed-grains,  praised  or  compassionated  because 
of  his  excellent  morals.  Clearly,  if  morality  meant  no 
more  than  such  decencies  as  are  practised  by  these  poi- 
sonous members  of  society,  it  would  be  possible  to  say, 
without  suspicion  of  light  -  headedness,  that  morality 
lay  aloof  from  the  grand  stream  of  human  affairs,  as  a 
small  channel  fed  by  the  stream  and  not  missed  from 
it.  While  this  form  of  nonsense  is  conveyed  in  the 
popular  use  of  words,  there  must  be  plenty  of  well- 


MORAL   SWINDLERS.  191 

dressed  ignorance  at  leisure  to  rnn  through  a  box  of 
books,. which  will  feel  itself  initiated  in  the  freemason- 
ry of  intellect  by  a  view  of  life  which  might  take  for  a 
Sliakspearian  motto — 

"Fair  is  foul  and  foul  is  fair, 
Hover  through  the  fog  and  filthy  air  " — 

and  will  find  itself  easily  provided  with  striking  con- 
versation by  the  rule  of  reversing  all  the  judgments  on 
good  and  evil  which  have  come  to  be  the  calendar  and 
clock-work  of  society.  But  let  our  habitual  talk  give 
morals  their  full  meaning  as  the  conduct  which,  in 
every  human  relation,  would  follow  from  the  fullest 
knowledge  and  the  fullest  sympathy — a  meaning  per- 
petually corrected  and  enriched  by  a  more  thorough 
appreciation  of  dependence  in  things,  and  a  finer  sen- 
sibility to  both  physical  and  spiritual  fact  —  and  this 
ridiculous  ascription  of  superlative  power  to  minds 
which  have  no  effective  awe-inspiring  vision  of  the 
human  lot,  no  response  of  understanding  to  the  con- 
nection between  duty  and  the  material  processes  by 
which  the  world  is  kept  habitable  for  cultivated  man, 
will  be  tacitly  discredited  without  any  need  to  cite 
the  immortal  names  that  all  are  obHo;ed  to  take  as 
the  measure  of  intellectual  rank  and  highly -charged 
genius. 

Suppose  a  Frenchman — I  mean  no  disrespect  to  the 
great  French  nation,  for  all  nations  are  afiiicted  with 
their  peculiar  parasitic  growths,  which  are  lazy,  hungry 
forms,  usually  characterized  by  a  disproportionate  swal- 


192  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

lowing  apparatus — suppose  a  Parisian  who  should  shuf« 
fle  down  the  Boulevard  with  a  sonl  ignorant .  of  the 
gravest  cares  and  the  deepest  tenderness  of  manhood, 
and  a  frame  more  or  less  fevered  by  debauchery,  men- 
tally polishing  into  utmost  refinement  of  phrase  and 
rliythni  verses  which  were   an  enlargement   on   that 
Shakspearian  motto,  and  worthy  of  the  most  expensive 
title  to  be  furnished  by  the  venders  of  such  antithetic 
ware  as  Les  Marguerites  de  VEnfer,  or  Les  delices  de 
Beelz'ehuth.     This  supposed  personage  might  probably 
enough  regard  his  negation  of  those  moral  sensibilities 
which  make  half  the  warp  and  woof  of  human  historv, 
his  indifference  to  the  hard  thinking  and  hard  handi- 
work of  life,  to  which  he  owed  even  his  own  gauzy 
mental  garments,  with  their  spangles  of  poor  paradox, 
as  the  royalty  of  genius,  for  we  are  used  to  witness 
such  self- crowning  in  many  forms  of  mental  aliena- 
tion ;  but  he  would  not,  I  think,  be  taken,  even  by  his 
own  generation,  as  a  living  proof  that  there  can  exist 
such  a  combination  as  that  of  moral  stupidity  and  triv- 
ial emphasis  of  personal  indulgence  with  the  large  yet 
finely  discriminating  vision  which  marks  the  intellect- 
ual masters  of  our  kind.     Doubtless  there  are  many 
sorts  of  transfiguration,  and  a  man  who  has  come  to  be 
worthy  of  all  gratitude  and  reverence  may  have  had 
his  swinish  period,  wallowing  in  ugly  places ;  but  sup- 
pose it  had  been  handed  down  to  us  that  Sophocles  or 
Virgil  had  at  one  time  made  himself  scandalous  in  this 
way :  the  works  which  have  consecrated  their  memory 
for  our  admiration  and  gratitude  are  not  a  glorify- 


MORAL   SWINDLERS.  193 

iDg  of  swinishness,  but  an  artistic  incor;^  oration  of  the 
hiojhest  sentiment  known  to  their  ao;e. 

All  these  may  seem  to  be  wide  reasons  for  objecting 
to  Melissa's  pity  for  Sir  Gavial  Mantrap  on  the  ground 
of  his  good  morals;  but  their  connection  will  not  be 
obscure  to  any  one  who  has  taken  pains  to  observe 
the  links  uniting  the  scattered  signs  of  our  social 
development. 


191  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


XVII. 

SHADOWS  OF  THE  COMING   RACE. 

My  friend  Trost,  who  is  no  optimist  as  to  the  state 
of  the  universe  hitherto,  but  is  confident  that  at  some 
future  period  within  the  duration  of  the  solar  system 
ours  will  be  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds  —  a  hope 
which  I  always  honor  as  a  sign  of  beneficent  qualities 
— ray  friend  Trost  always  tries  to  keep  up  my  spirits, 
under  the  sight  of  the  extremely  unpleasant  and  dis- 
figuring work  by  which  many  of  our  fellow-creatures 
have  to  get  their  bread,  with  the  assurance  that  "  all 
this  M'ill  soon  be  done  by  machinery."  But  he  some- 
times neutralizes  tlie  consolation  by  extending  it  over 
so  large  an  area  of  human  labor,  and  insisting  so  im- 
pressively on  the  quantity  of  energy  which  will  thus 
be  set  free  for  loftier  purposes,  that  I  am  tempted  to 
desire  an  occasional  famine  of  invention  in  the  coming 
ages,  lest  the  humbler  kinds  of  work  should  be  entirely 
nullified  while  there  are  still  left  some  men  and  women 
who  are  not  fit  for  the  highest. 

Especially,  when  one  considers  the  perfunctory  way 
in  which  some  of  the  most  exalted  tasks  are  already 
executed  by  those  who  are  understood  to  be  educated 
for  them,  there  rises  a  fearful  vision  of  the  human  race 
evolving  machinery  which  will  by-and-by  throw  itself 


SHADOWS   OF   THE   COMING   RACE.  195 

fatally  out  of  work.  When,  in  the  Bank  of  England, 
I  see  a  wondronslj  delicate  machine  for  testing  sover- 
eigns, a  shrewd  implacable  little  steel  Rhadamanthns 
that,  once  the  coins  are  delivered  up  to  it,  lifts  and  bal- 
ances each  in  turn  for  the  fraction  of  an  instant,  finds 
it  wanting  or  sufficient,  and  dismisses  it  to  right  or  left 
with  rigorous  justice;  when  I  am  told  of  micrometers 
and  thermopiles  and  tasimeters  which  deal  physicallj' 
with  the  invisible,  the  impalpable,  and  the  unimagina- 
ble *  of  cunning  wires  and  wheels  and  pointing  needles 
which  will  register  your  and  my  quickness  so  as  to  ex- 
clude flattering  opinion  ;  of  a  machine  for  drawing  the 
right  conclusion,  which  will  doubtless  by-and-by  be  im- 
proved into  an  automaton  for  finding  true  premises ; 
of  a  microphone  which  detects  the  cadence  of  the  fly's 
foot  on  the  ceiling,  and  may  be  expected  presently  to 
discriminate  the  noises  of  our  various  follies  as  thev 
soliloquize  or  converse  in  our  brains — m}''  mind  seem- 
ing too  small  for  these  things,  I  get  a  little  out  of  it, 
like  an  unfortunate  savage  too  suddenly  brought  face 
to  face  with  civilization,  and  I  exclaim, 

"  Am  I  already  in  the  shadow  of  the  Coming  Race  ? 
and  will  the  creatures  who  are  to  transcend  and  finally 
supersede  us  be  steely  organisms,  giving  out  the  efflu- 
via of  the  laboratory,  and  performing  with  infallible 
exactness  more  than  everything  that  we  have  perform- 
ed with  a  slovenly  approximativeness  and  self-defeat- 
ing inaccuracy  ?" 

"  But,"  says  Trost,  treating  me  with  cautious  mild- 
ness on  hearing  me  vent  this  raving  notion,  "  you  for- 


196  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

get  tliat  these  Mouder- workers  are  the  slaves  of  our 
race,  need  our  tendance  and  regulation,  obey  the  man- 
dates of  our  consciousness,  and  are  only  deaf  and  dumb 
bringers  of  reports  which  we  decipher  and  make  use 
of.     They  are  simply  extensions  of  the  human  organ- 
ism, so  to  speak,  limbs  immeasurably  more  powerful, 
ever  more  subtle  finger-tips,  ever  more  mastery  over 
the  invisibly  great  and  the  invisibly  small.     Each  new 
machine  needs  a  new  appliance  of  human  skill  to  con- 
struct it,  new  devices  to  feed  it  with  material,  and  of- 
ten keener-edged  faculties  to  note  its  registrations  or 
performances.     How,  then,  can  machines  supersede  us? 
• — they  depend  upon  us.     When  we  cease,  they  cease." 
"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  I,  getting  back  into 
]ny  mind,  and  becoming  rather  wilful  in  consequence. 
"  If,  as  I  have  heard  you  contend,  machines  as  they  are 
more  and  more  perfected  will  require  less  and  less  of 
tendance,  how  do  I  know  that  tliey  may  not  be  ulti- 
mately made  to  cari'y,  or  may  not  in  themselves  evolve, 
conditions  of  self-supply,  self-repair,  and  reproduction, 
and  not  only  do  all  the  niighty  and  subtle  work  possi- 
ble on  this  planet  better  than  we  could  do  it,  but  with 
the  immense  advantage  of  banishing  from  the  earth's 
atmosphere  screaming   consciousnesses  which,  in   our 
comparatively  clumsy  race,  make  an  intolerable  noise 
and  fuss  to  each  other  about  every  petty  ant-like  per- 
formance, looking  on  at  all  work  only  as  it  were  to 
spring  a  rattle  here  or  blow  a  trumpet  there,  with  a 
ridiculous  sense  of  being  effective?     I  for  my  part 
cannot  see  any  reason  why  a  sufficiently  penetrating 


SHADOWS   OF   THE   COMING   RACE.  197 

thinker,  who  can  see  liis  way  tliroiigh  a  tlionsaud  years 
or  so,  should  not  conceive  a  parliament  of  machines, 
in  which  the  manners  were  excellent  and  the  motions 
infallible  in  logic:  one  honorable  instrument,  a  remote 
descendant  of  the  Yoltaic  family,  might  discharge  a 
powerful  current  (entirely  without  animosity)  on  an 
honorable  instrument  opposite,  of  more  upstart  origin, 
but  belonging  to  the  ancient  edge-tool  race  which  we 
already  at  Sheffield  see  paring  thick  iron  as  if  it  were 
mellow  cheese — by  this  unerringly  directed  discharge 
operating  on  movements  corresponding  to  what  we  call 
Estimates,  and  by  necessary  mechanical  consequence  on 
movements  corresponding  to  what  we  call  the  Funds, 
which,  with  a  vain  analogy,  we  sometimes  speak  of  as 
"sensitive."  For  every  machine  would  be  perfectly 
educated,  that  is  to  Sctv,  would  have  the  suitable  molec- 
ular  adjustments,  which  would  act  not  the  less  infalli- 
bly for  being  free  from  the  fussy  accompaniment  of 
that  consciousness  to  w'hich  our  prejudice  gives  a  su- 
preme governing  rank,  when  in  truth  it  is  an  idle  }iar- 
asite  on  the  grand  sequence  of  things." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort !"  returned  Trost,  getting  an- 
gry, and  judging  it  kind  to  treat  me  with  some  severi- 
ty ;  "  what  you  have  heard  me  say  is,  that  our  race 
will  and  must  act  as  a  nervous  centre  to  the  utmost 
development  of  mechanical  processes :  the  subtly  re- 
fined powers  of  machines  will  react  in  producing  more 
subtly  refined  thinking  processes,  which  will  occupy  the 
minds  set  free  from  grosser  labor.  Say,  f(tr  example, 
that  all  the  scavengers'  work  of  London  were  done,  so 


198  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

far  as  human  attention  is  concerned,  by  the  occasional 
pressure  of  a  brass  button  (as  in  the  ringing  of  an  elec- 
tric bell),  you  will  then  have  a  multitude  of  brains  set 
free  for  the  exquisite  enjoyment  of  dealing  with  the 
exact  sequences  and  high  speculations  supplied  and 
prompted  by  the  delicate  machines  which  yield  a  re- 
sponse to  the  fixed  stars,  and  give  readings  of  the  spiral 
vortices  fundamentally  concerned  in  the  production  of 
epic  poems  or  great  judicial  harangues.  So  far  from 
njankind  being  throwni  out  of  work,  according  to  your 
notion,"  concluded  Trost,  with  a  peculiar  nasal  note  of 
scorn,  "if  it  were  not  for  your  incurable  dilettanteism 
in  science  as  in  all  other  things — if  you  had  once  un- 
derstood the  action  of  any  delicate  machine  —  you 
would  perceive  that  the  sequences  it  carries  through- 
out the  realm  of  phenomena  would  require  many  gen- 
erations, perhaps  eons  of  understandings  considerably 
stronger  than  yours,  to  exhaust  the  store  of  work  it  lays 
open." 

"  Precisely,"  said  I,  with  a  meekness  which  I  felt 
was  praiseworthy ;  "  it  is  the  feebleness  of  my  capaci- 
ty, bringing  me  nearer  than  you  to  the  human  average, 
that  perhaps  enables  me  to  imagine  certain  results  bet- 
ter than  you  can.  Doubtless  the  very  fishes  of  our 
rivers,  gullible  as  they  look,  and  slow  as  they  are  to  be 
rightly  convinced  in  another  order  of  facts,  form  fewer 
false  expectations  about  each  other  than  we  should 
form  about  them  if  we  were  in  a  position  of  somewhat 
fuller  intercourse  with  their  species  ;  for  even  as  it  is, 
we  have  continually  to  be  surprised  that  they  do  not 


SHADOWS   OF  THE   COMING   RACE.  199 

rise  to  our  carefully  selected  bait.  Take  me  then  as  a 
sort  of  reflective  and  experienced  carp,  but  do  not 
estimate  the  justice  of  my  ideas  by  my  facial  expres- 
sion," 

"  Pooh !"  says  Trost.  (We  are  on  very  intimate 
terms.) 

"  Naturally,"  I  persisted, "  it  is  less  easy  to  you  than 
to  me  to  imagine  our  race  transcended  and  superseded, 
since  the  more  energy  a  being  is  possessed  of,  tlie 
harder  it  must  be  for  him  to  conceive  his  own  deatli. 
But  I,  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  reflective  carp,  can 
easily  imagine  myself  and  my  congeners  dispensed 
with  in  the  frame  of  things,  and  giving  way  not  only 
to  a  superior  but  a  vastly  dilferent  kind  of  Entity. 
What  I  would  ask  you  is,  to  sliow  me  why,  since  each 
new  invention  casts  a  new  light  along  the  pathway 
of  discovery,  and  each  new  combination  or  structure 
brings  into  play  more  conditions  than  its  inventor  fore- 
saw, there  should  not  at  length  be  a  machine  of  such 
high  mechanical  and  chemical  powers  that  it  would 
find  and  assimilate  the  material  to  supply  its  own 
waste,  and  then,  by  a  further  evolution  of  internal  mo- 
lecular movements,  reproduce  itself  by  some  process 
of  fission  or  budding.  This  last  stage  having  been 
reached,  either  by  man's  contrivance  or  as  an  unfore- 
seen result,  one  sees  that  the  process  of  natural  selec- 
tion must  drive  men  altogether  out  of  the  field  ;  for 
they  will  long  before  have  begun  to  sink  into  the  mis- 
erable condition  of  those  unhappy  characters  in  fable 
who,  having  demons  or  djinns  at  their  beck,  and  being 


200  THEOPHEASTUS   SUCH. 

obliged  to  supply  them  with  work,  found  too  much  of 
everything  done  in  too  short  a  time.  What  demons  so 
potent  as  molecular  movements,  none  the  less  tremen- 
dously potent  for  not  carrying  the  futile  cargo  of  a  con- 
sciousness screeching  irrelcNantl}', like  a  fowl  tied  head 
downmost  to  the  saddle  of  a  swift  horseman  ?  Under 
such  uncomfortable  circumstances,  our  race  will  have 
diminished  with  the  diminishing  call  on  their  energies; 
and  by  the  time  that  the  self-repairing  and  reproduc- 
ing machines  arise,  all  but  a  few  of  the  rare  inventors, 
calculators,  and  speculators  will  have  become  pale, 
pulpy,  and  cretinous  from  fatty  or  other  degeneration, 
and  behold  around  them  a  scanty  hydrocephalous  off- 
spring. As  to  the  breed  of  the  ingenious  and  intel- 
lectual, their  nervous  systems  will  at  last  have  been 
overwrought  in  following  the  molecular  revelations  of 
the  immensely  more  powerful  unconscious  race,  and 
they  will  naturally,  as  the  less  energetic  combinations 
of  movement,  subside  like  the  flame  of  a  candle  in  the 
sunlight.  Thus  the  feebler  race,  whose  corporeal  ad- 
justments happened  to  be  accompanied  -with,  a  mani- 
acal consciousness  which  imao-ined  itself  moving   its 

o  o 

mover,  will  have  vanished,  as  all  less  adapted  exist- 
ences do  before  the  fittest — i.e.,  the  existence  composed 
of  the  most  persistent  groups  of  movements  and  the 
most  capable  of  incorporating  new  groups  in  harmoni- 
ous relation.  Who — if  our  consciousness  is,  as  I  have 
been  given  to  understand,  a  mere  stumbling  of  our  or- 
ganisms on  their  way  to  unconscious  perfection — who 
shall  sav  that  those  fittest  existences  will  not  be  found 


SHADOWS   OF   THE   COMING   RACE.  201 

alono;  the  track  of  wliat  we  call  iiioriranic  combina- 
tioiis,  which  will  carry  on  the  most  elaborate  processes 
as  mutely  and  painlessly  as  we  are  now  told  that  the 
minerals  are  metamorphozing  themselves  continually 
in  the  dark  laboratory  of  the  earth's  crust  ?  Thus  this 
planet  may  be  filled  with  beings  who  will  be  blind  and 
deaf  as  the  imnost  rock,  yet  will  execute  changes  as 
delicate  and  complicated  as  those  of  human  language, 
and  all  the  intricate  web  of  what  we  call  its  effects, 
without  sensitive  impression, without  sensitive  impulse: 
there  may  be,  let  us  say,  nmte  orations,  mute  rhapso- 
dies, mute  discussions,  and  no  consciousness  there  even 
to  enjo}^  the  silence." 

"Absurd!"  grumbled  Trost. 

"  The  supposition  is  logical,"  said  I.  "  It  is  well 
argued  from  the  premises." 

"  Whose  premises  ?"  cried  Trost,  turning  on  me  with 
some  fierceness.  "  You  don't  mean  to  call  them  mine, 
I  hope?" 

"  Heaven  forbid !  They  seem  to  be  flying  about  in 
the  air  with  other  germs,  and  have  found  a  sort  of 
nidus  among  my  melancholy  fancies.  Nobody  really 
liolds  them.  They  bear  the  same  relation  to  real 
belief  as  walking  on  the  head  for  a  show  does  to  run- 
ning away  from  an  explosion  or  walking  fast  to  catch 
the  train." 

9* 


202  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 


XVIII. 

THE   MODERN   HEP!    HEP!    HEP! 

To  discern  likeness  amidst  diversity,  it  is  well  known, 
does  not  require  so  line  a  mental  edge  as  the  discerning 
of  diversity  amidst  general  sameness.  The  primary 
rough  classification  depends  on  the  prominent  resem- 
blances of  things:  the  progress  is  toward  finer  and 
finer  discrimination  according  to  minute  differences. 

Yet  even  at  this  stage  of  European  culture  one's 
attention  is  continually  drawn  to  the  prevalence  of 
that  grosser  mental  sloth  which  makes  people  dull  to 
the  most  ordinary  prompting  of  comparison  —  the 
bringing  things  together  because  of  their  likeness. 
The  same  motives,  the  same  ideas,  the  same  practices, 
are  alternately  admired  and  abhorred,  lauded  and 
denounced,  according  to  their  association  Mitli  super- 
ficial differences,  historical  or  actually  social.  Even 
learned  writers  treating  of  great  subjects  often  show 
an  attitude  of  mind  not  greatly  superior  in  its  logic 
to  that  of  the  frivolous  fine  lady  who  is  indignant  at 
the  frivolity  of  her  maid. 

To  take  only  the  subject  of  the  Jews :  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  a  form  of  bad  reasoning  about  them 
which  has  not  been  heard  in  conversation  or  been 
admitted  to  the  dignity  of  print;  but  the  neglect  of 


THE  MODERN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP  !        203 

resemblances  is  a  common  property  of  dulness  which 
unites  all  the  various  points  of  view — the  prejudiced, 
the  puerile,  the  s[)itef  ul,  and  the  abysmally  ignorant. 

That  the  preservation  of  national  memories  is  an 
element  and  a  means  of  national  greatness,  that  their 
revival  is  a  sign  of  reviving  nationality,  that  every 
heroic  defender,  every  patriotic  restorer,  has  been  in- 
spired by  such  memories  and  has  made  them  his 
watchword,  that  even  such  a  corporate  existence  as 
that  of  a  Roman  legion  or  an  Eno-lish  remment  has 
been  made  valorous  by  memorial  standards — these  are 
the  glorious  commonplaces  of  historic  teaching  at  our 
public  schools  and  universities,  being  happily  ingrained 
in  Greek  and  Latin  classics.  They  have  also  been  im- 
pressed on  the  world  by  conspicuous  modern  instances. 
That  there  is  a  free  modern  Greece  is  due — through 
all  infiltration  of  other  than  Greek  blood — to  the  pres- 
ence of  ancient  Greece  in  the  consciousness  of  Euro- 
pean men  ;  and  every  speaker  would  feel  his  point  safe 
if  he  were  to  praise  Byron's  devotion  to  a  cause  made 
glorious  by  ideal  identification  with  the  past;  hardly 
so,  if  he  were  to  insist  that  the  Greeks  were  not  to  bo 
helped  further  because  their  history  shows  that  they 
were  anciently  unsurpassed  in  treachery  and  lying,  and 
that  many  modern  Greeks  are  highly  disreputable 
(jliaracters,  w^iile  others  are  disposed  to  grasp  too  large 
a  share  of  our  commerce.  The  same  with  Italv:  the 
]iathos  of  his  country's  lot  pierced  the  youthful  soul  of 
Mazzini,  because,  like  Dante's,  his  blood  was  fraught 
with  the  kinship  of  Italian  greatness,  his  imagination 


204  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH, 

filled  with  a  majestic  past  that  wrought  itself  into  a 
majestic  fntnre.  Half  a  century  ago,  what  was  Italy? 
All  idling-place  of  dilettanteism  or  of  itinerant  motive- 
less wealth,  a  territory  parcelled  out  for  papal  suste- 
nance, dynastic  convenience,  and  the  profit  of  an  alien 
Government.  What  were  the  Italians?  No  people, 
no  voice  in  European  counsels,  no  massive  power  in 
European  affairs :  a  race  thought  of  in  English  and 
French  society  as  chiefly  adapted  to  the  operatic  stage, 
or  to  serve  as  models  for  painters ;  disposed  to  smile 
gratefully  at  the  reception  of  half-pence ;  and  by  the 
more  historical  remembered  to  be  rather  polite  than 
truthful — in  all  probability,  a  combination  of  Macliia- 
velli,  Rnbiui,  and  Masaniello.  Thanks  chiefly  to  the 
divine  gift  of  a  memory  which  inspires  the  moments 
with  a  past,  a  present,  and  a  future,  and  gives  the  sense 
of  corporate  existence  that  raises  man  above  the  other- 
wise more  respectable  and  innocent  brute,  all  that,  or 
most  of  it,  is  changed. 

Again,  one  of  our  living  historians  finds  just  sympa- 
th}^  in  his  vigorous  insistance  on  onr  true  ancestry,  on 
our  being  the  strongly  marked  heritors  in  language 
and  genius  of  those  old  English  seamen  wlio,  behold- 
ing a  rich  countiy  with  a  most  convenient  seaboard, 
came,  doubtless  with  a  sense  of  divine  wan-ant,  and 
settled  themselves  on  this  or  the  other  side  of  ferlil- 
izing  streams,  gradually  conquering  more  and  more  of 
the  pleasant  land  from  the  natives  who  knew  nothing 
of  Odin,  and  finally  making  unusually  clean  work  in 
ridding  themselves  of  those  prior  occupants.    "  Let  us," 


THE  MODERN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP  !        205 

he  virtually  says — "let  us  know  who  were  onr  fore- 
fathers—  who  it  was  that  won  the  soil  for  ns,  and 
brought  the  good  seed  of  those  institutions  through 
which  we  should  not  arrogantly  but  gratefully  feel  our- 
selves distinguished  among  the  nations  as  possessors  of 
long-inherited  freedom  ;  let  us  not  keep  up  an  ignorant 
kind  of  nauiing  which  disguises  our  true  affinities  of 
blood  and  language,  but  let  us  see  thoroughly  what 
sort  of  notions  and  traditions  our  forefathers  had,  and 
what  sort  of  song  inspired  them.  Let  the  poetic  f:^g- 
nients  which  breathe  forth  their  fierce  bravery  in  bat- 
tle, and  their  trust  in  fierce  gods  who  helped  them,  be 
treasured  with  affectionate  reverence.  These  seafar- 
ino;,  invadiuii:,  self- asserting  men  were  the  English  of 
old  time,  and  were  our  fatliers  wlio  did  rough  M-ork  by 
M-hich  we  are  profiting.  The}^  had  virtues  which  in- 
corporated themselves  in  wholesome  usages  to  which 
we  trace  our  own  political  blessings.  Let  us  know  and 
acknowledge  our  common  relationship  to  them,  and  be 
thankful  that,  over  and  above  the  affections  and  dnties 
which  spring  from  our  manhood,  we  have  the  closer 
and  more  constantly  guiding  duties  which  belong  to  us 
as  Eno-lishmen." 

To  this  view  of  our  nationality  most  persons  who 
have  feeling  and  understanding  enough  to  be  conscious 
of  the  connection  between  the  patriotic  affection  and 
every  other  affection  which  lifts  us  above  emigrating 
rats  and  free-loving  baboons,  will  be  disposed  to  say 
Amen.  True,  we  are  not  indebted  to  those  ancestors 
for  our  religion:  we  arc  rather  proud  of  having  got 


206  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

that  illumination  from  elsewhere.  The  men  -who 
planted  our  nation  were  not  Christians,  though  they 
began  their  work  centuries  after  Christ,  and  the}'  had 
a  decided  objection  to  Christianity  when  it  was  first 
proposed  to  them  :  they  were  not  monotheists,  and  their 
religion  was  the  reverse  of  spiritual.  But  since  we 
have  been  fortunate  enough  to  keep  the  island  home 
they  won  for  us,  and  have  been  on  the  whole  a  pros- 
perous people,  rather  continuing  the  plan  of  invading 
and  spoiling  other  lands  than  being  forced  to  beg  for 
shelter  in  them,  nobody  has  reproached  us  because  our 
fathers,  thirteen  hundred  years  ago,  worshipped  Odin, 
massacred  Britons,  and  were  with  difficult}^  persuaded 
to  accept  Christianity,  knowing  nothing  of  Hebrew  his- 
tory and  the  reasons  why  Christ  should  be  received  as 
the  Saviour  of  mankind.  The  Red  Indians,  not  liking 
us  when  we  settled  among  them,  might  have  been  will- 
ing to  fling  such  facts  in  our  faces,  but  they  were  too 
ignorant ;  and,  besides,  their  opinions  did  not  signify, 
because  we  were  able, if  vre  liked, to  exterminate  them. 
The  Hindoos  also  have  doubtless  had  their  rancors 
against  us,  and  still  entertain  enough  ill-will  to  make 
unfavorable  remarks  on  our  character,  especially  as  to 
our  historic  rapacity-  and  arrogant  notions  of  our  own 
superiority.  They  perhaps  do  not  admire  the  usual 
English  profile,  and  they  are  not  converted  to  our  way 
of  feeding;  but  though  we  are  a  small  number  of  an 
alien  race  profiting  by  the  territory  and  produce  of 
these  prejudiced  people,  they  are  unable  to  turn  us 
out ;  at  least,  when  they  tried  we  showed  them  their 


THE  MODERN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP  !        207 

mistake.  We  do  not  call  ourselves  a  dispersed  and  a 
punished  people :  we  are  a  colonizing  people,  and  it  is 
we  who  have  punished  others. 

Still,  the  historian  guides  us  rightly  in  urging  us  to 
dwell  on  the  virtues  of  our  ancestors  with  emulation, 
and  to  cherish  our  sense  of  a  common  descent  as  a 
bond  of  obligation.  The  eminence,  the  nobleness  of  a 
people,  depends  on  its  capability  of  being  stirred  by 
memories,  and  of  striving  for  what  we  call  spiritual 
ends  —  ends  which  consist  not  in  immediate  material 
possession,  but  in  the  satisfaction  of  a  great  feeling 
that  animates  the  collective  body  as  with  one  soul.  A 
people  having  the  seed  of  worthiness  in  it  must  feel  an 
answering  thrill  when  it  is  adjured  by  the  deaths  of 
its  heroes  who  died  to  preserve  its  national  existence ; 
when  it  is  reminded  of  its  small  beginnings  and  grad- 
ual growth  through  past  labors  and  struggles,  such  as 
are  still  demanded  of  it  in  order  that  the  freedom  and 
well-being  thus  inherited  may  be  transmitted  unim- 
paired to  children  and  children's  children  ;  when  an 
appeal  against  the  permission  of  injustice  is  made  to 
great  precedents  in  its  history  and  to  the  better  genius 
breathing  in  its  institutions.  It  is  this  living  force 
of  sentiment  in  common  which  makes  a  national  con- 
sciousness. Nations  so  moved  will  resist  conquest  with 
the  very  breasts  of  their  women,  will  pay  their  millions 
and  their  blood  to  abolish  slavery,  will  share  privation 
in  famine  and  all  calamity,  will  pi-oduce  poets  to  sing 
"  some  erreat  storv  of  a  man,"  and  thinkers  whose  theo- 
ries  will  bear  the  test  of  action.     An  individual  man, 


208  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

to  be  harmoniously  great,  must  belong  to  a  nation  of 
this  order,  if  not  in  actual  existence  vet  existinor  in  the 
past— in  memory,  as  a  departed,  invisible,  beloved  ideal, 
once  a  reality,  and  perhaps  to  be  restored.  A  common 
humanity  is  not  yet  enough  to  feed  the  rich  blood  of 
various  activity  which  makes  a  complete  man.  The 
time  is  not  come  for  cosmopolitanism  to  be  highly 
vii-tuons,  any  more  than  for  communism  to  suffice  for 
social  enero-v,  I  am  not  bound  to  feel  for  a  Chinaman 
as  I  feel  for  ray  fellow-countryman :  I  am  bound  not 
to  demoralize  him  with  opium,  not  to  compel  him  to 
my  will  by  destroying  or  plundering  the  fruits  of  his 
labor,  on  the  alleged  ground  that  he  is  not  cosmopoli- 
tan enough,  and  not  to  insult  him  for  his  want  of  my 
tailoring  and  religion  when  he  appears  as  a  peaceable 
visitor  on  the  London  pavement.  It  is  admirable  in 
a  Briton  with  a  good  purpose  to  learn  Chinese,  but  it 
would  not  be  a  proof  of  fine  intellect  in  him  to  taste 
Chinese  poetry  in  the  original  more  than  he  tastes  the 
poetry  of  his  own  tongue.  Affection,  intelligence,  duty, 
radiate  from  a  centre,  and  nature  has  decided  that  for 
us  Eno-lish  folk  that  centre  can  be  neither  China  nor 
Peru.  Most  of  us  feel  this  unreflectingly;  for  the  af- 
fectation of  undervaluing  everything  native,  and  being 
too  fine  for  one's  own  country,  belongs  only  to  a  few 
minds  of  no  dangerous  leverage.  What  is  wanting  is 
that  we  should  recognize  a  corresponding  attachment 
to  nationality  as  legitimate  in  every  other  people,  and 
understand  that  its  absence  is  a  privation  of  the  great- 
est good. 


THE  MODERN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP  !        209 

For,  to  repeat,  not  only  the  nobleness  of  a  nation  de- 
pends on  the  presence  of  this  national  consciousness, 
but  also  the  nobleness  of  each  individual  citizen.  Our 
dignity  and  rectitude  are  proportioned  to  our  sense  of 
relationship  with  something  great,  admirable,  pregnant 
with  high  possibilities,  worthy  of  sacrifice,  a  continual 
inspiration  to  self-repression  and  discipline  by  the  pres- 
entation of  aims  larger  and  more  attractive  to  our  gen- 
erous part  than  the  securing  of  personal  ease  or  pros- 
perity. And  a  people  possessing  this  good  should  sure- 
ly feel  not  only  a  ready  sym.pathy  with  the  effort  of 
those  who,  having  lost  the  good,  strive  to  regain  it,  but 
a  profound  pity  for  any  degradation  resulting  from  its 
loss;  nay,  something  more  than  pity  when  happier  na- 
tionalities have  made  victims  of  the  unfortunate  whose 
memories,  nevertheless,  are  the  very  fountain  to  which 
the  persecutors  trace  their  most  vaunted  blessings. 

These  notions  are  familiar:  few  will  deny  them  in 
the  abstract,  and  many  are  found  loudly  asserting  them 
in  relation  to  this  or  the  other  particular  case.  But 
here  as  elsewhere,  in  the  ardent  application  of  ideas, 
there  is  a  notable  lack  of  simple  comparison  or  sensi- 
bility to  resemblance.  The  European  world  has  long 
been  used  to  consider  the  Jews  as  altogetlier  exception- 
al, and  it  has  followed  naturally  enough  that  they  have 
been  excepted  from  the  rules  of  justice  and  mercy, 
which  are  based  on  human  likeness.  But  to  consider 
a  people  whose  ideas  have  determined  the  religion  of 
half  the  world,  and  that  the  more  cultivated  half,  and 
who  made  the  most  eminent  struggle  against  the  power 


210  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

of  Home,  as  a  purely  exceptional  race,  is  a  demoral- 
izing offence  against  rational  knowledge,  a  stultifying 
inconsistency  in  historical  interpretation.  Every  na- 
tion of  forcible  character,  i.  e.,  of  strongly  marked 
characteristics,  is  so  far  exceptional.  The  distinctive 
note  of  each  bird-species  is  in  this  sense  exceptional, 
but  the  necessary  ground  of  such  distinction  is  a  deep- 
er likeness.  The  superlative  peculiarity  in  the  Jews 
admitted,  our  affinity  with  them  is  only  the  more  ap- 
parent when  the  elements  of  their  peculiarity  are  dis- 
cerned. 

From  whatever  point  of  view  the  writings  of  the 
Old  Testament  may  be  regarded,  the  picture  they  pre- 
sent of  a  national  development  is  of  high  interest  and 
speciality, nor  can  their  historic  momentousness  be  nmch 
affected  by  any  varieties  of  theory  as  to  the  relation  they 
bear  to  the  New  Testament  or  to  the  rise  and  constitu- 
tion of  Christianity.  Wliether  we  accept  the  canonical 
Hebrew  books  as  a  revelation,  or  simply  as  part  of  an 
ancient  literature,  makes  no  difference  to  the  fact  that 
we  find  there  the  strongly  characterized  portraiture  of 
a  people  educated  from  an  earlier  or  later  period  to  a 
sense  of  separateness  uniqne  in  its  intensity — a  people 
taught  by  many  concurrent  influences  to  identify  faith- 
fulness to  its  national  traditions  with  the  his^hest  social 
and  religious  blessings.  Our  too  scanty  sources  of  Jew- 
ish history,  from  the  return  under  Ezra  to  the  begin- 
ning of  the  desperate  resistance  against  Rome,  show  us 
the  heroic  and  triumphant  struggle  of  the  Maccabees, 
which  rescued  the  religion  and  independence  of  the 


THE  MODERN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP !        211 

nation  from  the  corrupting  sway  of  the  S^-rian  Greeks, 
adding  to  the  glorious  sum  of  its  memorials,  and  stim- 
ulating continuous  efforts  of  a  more  peaceful  sort  to 
maintain  and  develop  that  national  life  which  the  he- 
roes had  fought  and  died  foi',  by  internal  measures  of 
legal  administration  and  public  teacliing.  Thenceforth 
the  virtuous  elements  of  the  Jewish  life  were  eno-ao-ed, 
as  they  had  been  with  varying  aspects  during  the  long 
and  changeful  prophetic  period  and  the  restoration  un- 
der Ezra,  on  the  side  of  preserving  the  specific  national 
character  against  a  demoralizing  fusion  with  that  of 
foreigners  whose  religion  and  ritual  were  idolatrous 
and  often  obscene.  There  was  always  a  Foreign  party 
reviling  the  National  party  as  narrow,  and  sometimes 
manifesting  their  own  breadth  in  extensive  views  of  ad- 
vancement or  profit  to  themselves  by  flattery  of  a  for- 
eign power.  Such  internal  conflict  naturally  tightened 
the  bands  of  conservatism,  which  needed  to  be  strong 
if  it  were  to  rescue  the  sacred  ark,  the  vital  spirit  of 
a  small  nation — "  the  smallest  of  the  nations  " — whose 
territory  lay  on  the  highway  between  three  continents ; 
and  when  the  dread  and  hatred  of  foreign  sway  had 
condensed  itself  into  dread  and  hatred  of  the  Komans, 
many  Conservatives  became  Zealots,  whose  chief  mark 
was  that  they  advocated  resistance  to  the  death  against 
the  submergence  of  their  nationality.  Much  might  be 
said  on  this  point  toward  distinguishing  the  desperate 
struggle  against  a  conquest  which  is  regarded  as  degra- 
dation and  corruption,  from  rash,  hopeless  insurrection 
against  an  established  native  government;  and  for  my 


212  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

part  (if  that  were  of  any  consequence)  I  share  the  spir- 
it of  tlie  Zealots.  I  take  the  spectacle  of  the  Jewish 
people  defying  the  Roman  edict,  and  preferring  death 
by  starvation  or  the  sword  to  the  introduction  of  Cali- 
gula's deified  statue  into  the  temple,  as  a  sublime  type 
of  steadfastness.  But  all  that  need  be  noticed  here  is 
the  continuity  of  that  national  education  (by  outward 
and  inward  circumstance)  which  created  in  the  Jews  a 
feeling  of  race,  a  sense  of  corporate  existence,  unique 
in  its  intensity. 

But  not,  before  the  dispersion,  unique  in  essential 
qualities.  There  is  more  likeness  than  contrast  be- 
tween the  way  we  English  got  our  island  and  the  way 
the  Israelites  got  Canaan.  We  have  not  been  noted 
for  forming  a  low  estimate  of  ourselves  in  comparison 
with  foreigners,  or  for  admitting  that  our  institutions 
are  equalled  by  those  of  any  other  people  under  the 
sun.  Many  of  us  have  thought  that  our  sea-wall  is  a 
specially  divine  arrangement  to  make  and  keep  us  a 
nation  of  sea-kings  after  the  manner  of  our  forefathers, 
secure  against  invasion,  and  able  to  invade  other  lands 
when  we  need  them,  though  they  may  lie  on  the  other 
side  of  the  ocean.  Again,  it  has  been  held  that  we 
have  a  peculiar  destiny  as  a  Protestant  people,  not  only 
able  to  bruise  the  head  of  an  idolatrous  Christianity 
in  the  midst  of  us,  but  fitted,  as  possessors  of  the  most 
truth  and  the  most  tonnage,  to  carry  our  purer  religion 
over  the  world  and  convert  mankind  to  our  way  of 
thinking.  The  Puritans,  asserting  their  liberty  to  re- 
strain tyrants,  found  the  Hebrew  history  closely  sym- 


THE   MODERN   HEP  !    HEP  !    HEP  !  213 

bolical  of  their  feelings  and  purpose ;  and  it  can  hard- 
ly be  correct  to  cast  the  blame  of  their  less  laudable 
doings  on  the  writings  they  iuvoked,  since  their  oppo- 
nents made  use  of  the  same  writings  for  different  ends, 
finding  there  a  strong  warrant  for  the  divine  right  of 
kings  and  the  denunciation  of  those  who,  like  Korah, 
Dathan,  and  Abiram,  took  on  themselves  the  office  of 
the  priesthood,  which  belonged  of  right  solely  to  Aaron 
and  his  sons,  or,  in  other  words,  to  men  ordained  by 
the  English  bishops.  We  must  rather  refer  the  pas- 
sionate use  of  the  Hebrew  writings  to  affinities  of  dis- 
position between  our  own  race  and  the  Jewish.  Is  it 
true  that  the  arrogance  of  a  Jew  was  so  immeasurably 
beyond  that  of  a  Calvinist  ?  And  the  just  sympathy 
and  admiration  which  we  gi\e  to  the  ancestors  who 
resisted  the  oppressive  acts  of  our  native  kings,  and  by 
resisting  rescued  or  won  for  us  the  best  part  of  our 
civil  and  religious  liberties — is  it  justly  to  be  withheld 
from  those  brave  and  steadfast  men  of  Jewish  race 
who  fouo-ht  and  died,  or  strove  bv  wise  administration 
to  resist,  the  oppression  and  corrupting  influences  of 
foreign  tyrants,  and  by  resisting  rescued  the  nationality 
which  was  the  very  hearth  of  our  own  religion  ?  At 
any  rate,  seeing  that  the  Jews  were  more  specifically 
than  any  other  nation  educated  into  a  sense  of  their 
supreme  moral  value,  the  chief  matter  of  surprise  is 
that  any  other  nation  is  found  to  rival  them  in  this 
form  of  self-confidence. 

More  exceptional — less  like  the  course  of  our  own 
history  —  has  been  their  dispersion  and  their  subsist- 


214  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

ence  as  a  separate  people  tlirongh  ages  in  whicli,  for 
the  most  part,  they  were  regarded  and  treated  very 
much  as  beasts  hunted  for  the  sake  of  their  skins,  or 
of  a  vahiable  secretion  peculiar  to  their  species.  The 
Jews  showed  a  talent  for  accumulating  what  was  an 
object  of  more  immediate  desire  to  Christians  than 
animal  oils  or  well-furred  skins,  and  their  cupidity  and 
avarice  were  found  at  once  particularly  hateful  and 
particularly  useful :  hateful  when  seen  as  a  reason  for 
punishing  them  by  mulcting  or  robbery,  useful  when 
this  retributive  process  could  be  successfully  carried 
forward.  Kings  and  emperors  naturally  were  more 
alive  to  the  usefulness  of  subjects  who  could  gather 
and  yield  money ;  but  edicts  issued  to  protect  "  the 
King's  Jews"  equall}^  with  the  King's  game  from  be- 
ing harassed  and  hunted  by  the  commonalty,  were  only 
slight  mitigations  to  the  deplorable  lot  of  a  race  held 
to  be  under  the  divine  curse,  and  had  little  force  af- 
ter the  Crusades  began.  As  the  slave-holders  in  the 
United  States  counted  the  curse  on  Ham  a  justification 
of  negro  slavery,  so  the  curse  on  the  Jews  was  counted 
a  justification  for  hindering  them  from  pursuing  agri- 
culture and  handicrafts ;  for  marking  them  out  as  ex- 
ecrable figures  by  a  peculiar  dress ;  for  torturing  them 
to  make  them  part  with  their  gains,  or  for  more  gra- 
tuitously spitting  at  them  and  pelting  them ;  for  tak- 
ing it  as  certain  that  they  killed  and  ate  babies,  poi- 
soned the  wells,  and  took  pains  to  spread  the  plague ; 
for  putting  it  to  them  whether  they  would  be  baptized 
or  burned,  and  not  failing  to  burn  and  massacre  them 


THE   MODERN    HEP  !    HEP  !    HE?!  215 

when  tliej  were  obstinate;  but  also  for  suspecting 
them  of  disliking  the  baptism  when  tliey  had  got  it, 
and  then  burning  them  in  punishment  of  their  insin- 
cerity ;  finally,  for  hounding  them  by  tens  on  tens  of 
thousands  from  the  homes  where  they  had  found  shel- 
ter for  centuries,  and  inflicting  on  them  tlie  horrors  of 
a  new  exile  and  a  new  dispersion.  All  this  to  avenge 
the  Saviour  of  mankind,  or  else  to  compel  these  stiff- 
necked  people  to  acknowledge  a  Master  whose  servants 
showed  such  beneficent  effects  of  his  teaching. 

With  a  people  so  treated  one  of  two  issues  was  pos- 
sible :  either  from  beino;  of  feebler  nature  than  their 
persecutors,  and  caring  more  for  ease  tiian  for  the  sen- 
timents and  ideas  whicli  constituted  their  distinctive 
character,  they  would  everywhere  give  way  to  pressure 
and  get  rapidly  merged  in  the  populations  around 
them;  or,  being  endowed  with  uncommon  tenacity, 
physical  and  mental,  feeling  peculiarly  the  ties  of  in- 
heritance both  in  blood  and  faith,  remembering  na 
tional  glories,  trusting  in  their  recover}'',  abhorring 
apostasy,  able  to  bear  all  things  and  hope  all  things 
with  the  consciousness  of  being  steadfast  to  spiritual 
obligations,  the  kernel  of  their  number  would  harden 
into  an  inflexibility  more  and  more  insured  by  motive 
and  habit.  They  would  cherish  all  differences  that 
marked  them  off  from  their  hated  oppressors,  all  mem- 
ories that  consoled  them  with  a  sense  of  virtual  though 
unrecognized  superiority ;  and  the  separateness  which 
was  made  their  badge  of  ignominy  would  be  their  in- 
ward pride,  their  source  of  fortifying  defiance.     Doubt- 


216  THEOPHHASTUS   SUCH. 

less  sucli  a  people  would  get  confirmed  in  vices.  An 
oppressive  government  and  a  persecuting  religion, 
while  breeding  vices  in  those  who  hold  power,  are  well 
known  to  breed  answering  vices  in  those  who  are  pow- 
erless and  suffering.  What  more  direct  plan  than  the 
course  presented  by  European  history  could  have  been 
pursued  in  order  to  give  the  Jews  a  spirit  of  bitter  iso- 
lation, of  scorn  for  the  wolfish  hypocrisy  that  made 
victims  of  them,  of  triumph  in  prospering  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  blunderers  who  stoned  them  away  from 
the  open  paths  of  industry  ? — or,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
encourage  in  the  less  defiant  a  lying  conformity,  a  pre- 
tence of  conversion  for  the  sake  of  the  social  advan- 
tages attached  to  baptism,  an  outward  renunciation  of 
their  hereditary  ties  with  the  lack  of  real  love  toward 
the  society  and  creed  which  exacted  this  galling  trib- 
ute?—  or  again,  in  the  most  nnhappy  specimens  of 
the  race,  to  rear  transcendent  examples  of  odious  vice, 
reckless  instruments  of  rich  men  with  bad  propensities, 
unscrupulous  grinders  of  the  alien  people  who  wanted 
to  grind  themf 

No  wonder  the  Jews  have  their  vices :  no  wonder  if 
it  were  proved  (which  it  has  not  hitherto  appeared  to 
be)  that  some  of  them  have  a  bad  pre-eminence  in  evil, 
an  unrivalled  superfluity  of  naughtiness.  It  would  be 
more  plausible  to  make  a  wonder  of  the  virtues  which 
have  prospered  among  them  nnder  the  shadow  of  op- 
pression. But  instead  of  dwelling  on  these,  or  treating 
as  admitted  what  any  hardy  or  ignorant  person  may 
deny,  let  us  found  simply  on  the  loud  assertions  of  the 


THE   MODERN    HEP!    HEP  !    HEP  I  217 

hostile.  The  Jews,  it  is  said,  resisted  the  expansion  of 
their  own  religion  into  Christianity ;  they  were  in  the 
habit  of  spitting  on  the  cross ;  they  have  held  the  name 
of  Christ  to  be  Anathema.  Who  taught  them  that? 
The  men  who  made  Christianity  a  curse  to  them :  the 
men  who  made  the  name  of  Christ  a  symbol  for  the 
spirit  of  vengeance,  and,  what  was  worse,  made  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  vengeance  a  pretext  for  satisfying  their 
own  savageness,  greed,  and  envy :  the  men  who  sanc- 
tioned with  the  name  of  Christ  a  barbaric  and  blun- 
dering copy  of  pagan  fatalism,  in  taking  the  words 
"His  blood  be  upon  us  and  on  our  children"  as  a 
divinely  appointed  verbal  warrant  for  wreaking  cru- 
elty, from  generation  to  generation,  on  the  people 
from  whose  sacred  writings  Christ  drew  his  teaching. 
Strange  retrogression  in  the  professors  of  an  expauded 
religion  boasting  an  illumination  beyond  the  spiritual 
doctrine  of  Hebrew  prophets!  For  Hebrew  pro[)liets 
proclaimed  a  God  who  demanded  mercy  rather  than 
sacrifices.  The  Christians  also  believed  that  God  de- 
lighted not  in  the  blood  of  rams  and  of  bulls,  but  they 
apparently  conceived  him  as  requiring  for  his  satisfac- 
tion the  sighs  and  groans,  the  blood  and  roasted  flesh 
of  men  whose  forefathers  had  misunderstood  the  meta- 
phorical character  of  prophecies  which  spoke  of  spirit- 
ual pre-eminence  under  the  figure  of  a  material  king- 
dom. Was  this  the  method  by  which  Christ  desired 
his  title  to  the  Messiahship  to  be  commended  to  the 
hearts  and  understandings  of  the  nation  in  which  he 
was  born  ?    Many  of  his  sayings  bear  the  stamp  of  that 

10 


218  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

patriotism  which  places  fellow-countrymen  iu  the  in- 
ner circle  of  affection  and  duty.  And  did  the  words 
"Father,  fori^ive  them,  they  know  not  wliat  they  do," 
refer  only  to  the  centurion  and  his  band — a  tacit  excep- 
tion being  made  of  every  Hebrew  there  present  from 
the  mercy  of  the  Father  and  the  compassion  of  the 
Son  ? — nay,  more,  of  every  Hebrew  yet  to  come  who 
remained  unconverted  after  hearing  of  his  claim  to 
the  Messiahship,  not  from  his  own  lips  or  those  of  his 
'lative  apostles,  but  from  the  lips  of  alien  men  whom 
cross,  creed,  and  baptism  had  left  cruel,  rapacious,  and 
debauched  ?  It  is  more  reverent  to  Christ  to  believe 
that  he  must  have  approved  the  Jewish  martyrs  w^ho 
deliberately  chose  to  be  burned  or  massacred  rather 
tlian  be  guilty  of  a  blaspheming  lie,  more  than  he  ap- 
proved the  rabble  of  crusaders  who  robbed  and  mur- 
dered them  in  his  name. 

But  these  remonstrances  seem  to  have  no  direct  ap- 
plication to  personages  who  take  up  the  attitude  of 
philosophic  thinkers  and  discriminating  critics,  profess- 
edly accepting  Christianity  from  a  rational  point  of 
view  as  a  vehicle  of  the  hio'hest  relio:ious  and  moral 
truth,  and  condemning  the  Jews  on  the  ground  that 
they  are  obstinate  adherents  of  an  outw^orn  creed, 
maintain  themselves  in  moi'al  alienation  from  the  peo- 
ples witli  wliom  they  share  citizenship,  and  are  desti- 
tute  of  real  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the  community 
and  State  with  which  they  are  thus  identified.  These 
anti-Judaic  advocates  usually  belong  to  a  party  which 
has  felt  itself  glorified  in  winning  for  Jews,  as  well  as 


THE   MODERN   HEp!    HEP !    HEP!  219 

Dissenters  and  Catholics,  the  full  privileges  of  citizen- 
ship, laying  open  to  them  every  path  to  distinction. 
At  one  time  the  voice  of  this  party  urged  that  differ- 
ences of  creed  were  made  dangerous  only  by  the  de- 
nial of  citizenship — that  you  must  make  a  man  a  citi- 
zen before  he  could  feel  like  one.  At  present,  appar- 
ently, this  confidence  has  been  succeeded  by  a  sense  of 
mistake  :  there  is  a  regret  that  no  limiting  clauses  wei-e 
insisted  on,  such  as  would  have  hindered  the  Jews  from 
coming  too  far  and  in  too  large  proportion  along  those 
opened  pathways;  and  the  Roumanians  are  thought 
to  have  shown  an  enviable  wisdom  in  giving  them  as 
little  chance  as  possible.  But  then  the  reflection  oc- 
curring that  some  of  the  most  objectionable  Jews  are 
baptized  Christians,  it  is  obvious  that  such  clauses 
would  have  been  insufficient,  and  the  doctrine  that  you-- 
can  turn  a  Jew  into  a  good  Christian  is  empliatically 
retracted.  But,  clearly,  these  liberal  gentlemen,  too 
late  enlightened  by  disagreeable  events,  must  yield  the 
palm  of  wise  foresight  to  those  who  argued  against 
tliem  long  ago ;  and  it  is  a  striking  spectacle  to  witness 
minds  so  panting  for  advancement  in  some  directions 
that  they  are  ready  to  force  it  on  an  unwilling  society, 
in  this  instance  despairingly  recurring  to  mediaeval 
types  of  thinking  —  insisting  that  the  Jews  are  made 
viciously  cosmopolitan  by  holding  the  world's  money- 
bag; that  for  them  all  national  interests  are  resolved 
into  the  algebra  of  loans;  that  they  have  suffered  an 
inward  degradation  stamping  them  as  morally  inferior, 
and — "  serve  them  right,"  since  they  rejected  Christi- 


220  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

anity.  All  which  is  mirrored  in  an  analogy,  namely, 
that  of  the  Irish,  also  a  servile  race,  who  have  rejected 
Protestantism,  though  it  has  been  repeatedly  urged  on 
them  by  fire  and  sword  and  penal  laws,  and  whose 
place  in  the  moral  scale  may  be  judged  by  our  adver- 
tisements, where  the  clause,  "  No  Irish  need'  apply," 
parallels  the  sentence  which  for  many  polite  persons 
sums  up  the  question  of  Judaism—"  I  never  did  like 
the  Jews." 

It  is  certainly  worth  considering  whether  an  ex- 
patriated, denationalized  race,  used  for  ages  to  live 
among  antipathetic  populations,  must  not  inevitably 
lack  some  conditions  of  nobleness.  If  they  drop  that 
separateness  which  is  made  their  reproach,  they  may 
be  in  danger  of  lapsing  into  a  cosmopolitan  indiffer- 
ence equivalent  to  cynicism,  and  of  missing  that  in- 
ward identification  with  the  nationality  immediately 
around  them  which  might  make  some  amends  for  their 
inherited  privation.  No  dispassionate  observer  can 
deny  this  danger.  Why,  our  own  countrymen  who 
take  to  living  abroad,  Avithout  purpose  or  function  to 
keep  up  their  sense  of  fellowship  in  the  affaii-s  of  their 
own  land,  are  rarely  good  specimens  of  moral  healthi- 
ness ;  still,  the  consciousness  of  having  a  native  coun- 
try, the  birthplace  of  common  memories  and  habits  of 
mind,  existing  like  a  parental  hearth  quitted  but  be- 
loved ;  the  dignity  of  being  included  in  a  people  which 
has  a  part  in  the  comity  of  nations  and  the  growing 
federation  of  the  world ;  that  sense  of  special  belong- 
ing which  is  the  root  of  human  virtues,  both  public 


THE  MODERX  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP  !        221 

and  private  —  all  these  spiritual  links  may  preserve 
migratorj"  Englishmen  from  the  worst  consequences  of 
their  voluntary  dispersion.  Unquestionably  the  Jews, 
having  been  more  than  any  other  race  exposed  to  the 
adverse  moral  influences  of  alienism,  must,  both  in  in- 
dividuals and  in  groups,  have  suffered  some  corre- 
sponding moral  degradation ;  but  in  fact  they  have 
escaped  with  less  of  abjectness,  and  less  of  hard  hos- 
tility toward  the  nations  whose  hand  has  been  against 
them,  than  could  have  happened  in  the  case  of  a 
people  who  had  neither  their  adhesion  to  a  separate 
religion  founded  on  historic  memories,  nor  their  cliar- 
acteristic  family  affectionateness.  Tortured,  flogged, 
spit  upon,  the  corjms  vile  on  which  rage  or  wanton- 
ness vented  themselves  with  impunity,  their  name 
flung  at  them  as  an  opprobrium  by  superstition,  hatred, 
and  contempt,  they  have  remained  proud  of  their 
origin.  Does  any  one  call  this  an  evil  pride  ?  Per- 
haps he  belongs  to  that  order  of  man  wlio,  while  he 
has  a  democi'atic  dislike  to  dukes  and  earls,  wants  to 
make  believe  that  his  father  was  an  idle  gentleman, 
when  in  fact  he  was  an  honorable  artisan,  or  who  would 
feel  flattered  to  be  taken  for  other  than  an  English- 
man. It  is  possible  to  be  too  arrogant  about  our  blood 
or  our  calling,  but  that  arrogance  is  virtue  compared 
with  such  mean  pretence.  The  pride  which  identifies 
us  with  a  great  historic  body  is  a  humanizing,  elevat- 
ing habit  of  mind,  inspiring  sacrifices  of  individual 
comfort,  gain,  or  other  selfish  ambition,  for  the  sake  of 
that  ideal  whole ;  and  no  man  swayed  by  such  a  sen- 


222  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

tiinent  can  become  completely  abject.     That  a  Jew  of 
Smyrna,  where  a  whip  is  carried  by  passengers  ready  to 
flog  off  the  too  ofBcious  specimens  of  his  race,  can  still 
be  prond  to  say  "  I  am  a  Jew,"  is  sni-ely  a  fact  to  awa- 
ken admiration  in   a  mind  capable  of  understanding 
what  we  may  call  the  ideal  forces  in  human  history. 
And  again,  a  varied,  impartial  observation  of  the  Jews 
in  different  countries  tends  to  the  impression  that  they 
have  a  predominant  kindliness  which  must  have  been 
deeply  ingrained  in  the  constitution  of  their  race  to 
have  outlasted  the  ages  of  persecution  and  oppression. 
The  concentration  of  their  joys  in  domestic  life  has 
kept  up  in  them  the  capacity  of  tenderness:  the  pity 
for  the  fatherless  and  the  widow,  the  care  for  the  wom- 
en and  the  little  ones,  blent  intimately  with  their  re- 
ligion, is  a  well  of  mercy  that  cannot  long  or  widely 
be  pent  up  by  exclusiveness.     And  the  kindliness  of 
the  Jew  overflows  the  line  of  division  between  him 
and  the  Gentile.     On  the  whole,  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable phenomena  in  the  history  of  this  scattered 
people,  made  for  ages  "  a  scorn  and  a  hissing,"  is,  tliat 
after  being  subjected  to  this  process,  which  might  have 
been  expected  to  be  in  every  sense  deteriorating  and 
vitiating,  they  have  come  out  of  it  (in  any  estimate 
w^iich  allows  for  numerical  proportion)  rivalling  the 
nations  of  all  European  countries  in  healthiness  and 
beauty  of  phj-sique,  in  practical   ability,  in    scientific 
and  artistic   aptitude,  and   in   some  forms  of  etliical 
value.     A  significant  indication  of  their  natural  rank  is 
seen  in  the  fact  that  at  this  moment  the  leader  of  the 


THE   MODERN   HEP !    HEP !    HEP.'  223 

Liberal  party  in  Germany  is  a  Jew,  the  leader  of  the 
Kepnblican  party  in  France  is  a  Jew,  and  the  head  of 
the  Conservative  ministry  in  England  is  a  Jew. 

And  here  it  is  that  we  find  the  ground  for  the  obvi- 
ous jealousy  which  is  now  stimulating  the  revived  ex- 
pression of  old  antipathies.  "  The  Jews,"  it  is  felt, 
"  have  a  dangerous  tendency  to  get  the  uppermost 
places,  not  only  in  commerce  but  in  political  life. 
Their  monetary  hold  on  governments  is  tending  to 
perpetuate  in  leading  Jews  a  sj^irit  of  universal  alien- 
ism (euphemistically  called  cosmopolitanism),  even 
where  the  West  has  given  them  a  full  share  in  civil 
and  political  rights.  A  people  with  Oriental  sunlight 
in  their  blood,  yet  capable  of  being  everywhere  accli- 
matized, they  have  a  force  and  toughness  which  ena- 
bles them  to  carry  off  the  best  prizes ;  and  their  wealth 
is  likely  to  put  half  the  seats  in  Parliament  at  their 
disposal." 

There  is  truth  in  these  views  of  Jewish  social  and 
political  relations ;  but  it  is  rather  too  late  for  liberal 
pleaders  to  urge  them  in  a  merely  vituperative  sense. 
Do  they  propose,  as  a  remedy  for  the  impending  dan- 
ger of  our  healthier  national  influences  getting  over- 
ridden by  Jewish  predominance,  that  we  should  repeal 
our  emancipatory  laws?  Not  all  the  Germanic  immi- 
grants who  have  been  settling  among  us  for  genera- 
tions, and  are  still  pouring  in  to  settle,  are  Jews,  but 
thoroughly  Teutonic  and  more  or  less  Christian  crafts- 
men, mechanicians,  or  skilled  and  erudite  functiona- 
ries ;  and  the  Semitic  Christians  who  swarm  amono;  us 


224  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

are  dangerously  like  their  unconverted  brethren  in 
complexion,  persistence,  and  wealth.  Then  there  are 
the  Greeks,  who,  by  the  help  of  Phoenician  blood  or 
otherwise,  are  objectionably  strong  in  the  city.  Some 
judges  think  that  the  Scotch  are  more  numerous  and 
prosperous  here  in  the  South  than  is  quite  for  the  good 
of  us  Southerners ;  and  the  early  inconvenience  felt 
under  the  Stuarts  of  being  quartered  upon  by  a  hun- 
gry, hard-working  people,  with  a  distinctive  accent  and 
form  of  religion,  and  higher  cheek-bones  than  English 
taste  requires,  lias  not  yet  been  quite  neutralized.  As 
for  the  Irish,  it  is  felt  in  high  quarters  that  we  have 
always  been  too  lenient  toward  them ;  at  least,  if  they 
had  been  harried  a  little  more,  there  might  not  have 
been  so  many  of  them  on  the  English  press,  of  which 
they  divide  the  power  with  tlie  Scotch,  thus  driving 
many  Englishmen  to  honest  and  ineloquent  labor. 

So  far  shall  we  be  carried  if  we  go  in  search  of  de- 
vices to  hinder  people  of  other  blood  than  our  own 
from  getting  the  advantage  of  dwelling  among  us. 

Let  it  be  admitted  that  it  is  a  calamity  to  the  Eng- 
lish, as  to  any  other  great  historic  people,  to  undergo 
a  premature  fusion  with  immigrants  of  alien  blood ; 
that  its  distinctive  national  characteristics  should  be  in 
danger  of  obliteration  by  the  predominating  quality  of 
foreign  settlers.  I  not  only  admit  this,  I  am  ready  to 
unite  in  groaning  over  the  threatened  danger.  To  one 
who  loves  his  native  language,  who  would  delight  to 
keep  our  rich  and  harmonious  English  un defiled  by 
foreign   accent,  foreign   intonation,  and  those  foreign 


THE   MODERN   HEP !    HEP!    HEP!  225 

tinctures  of  verbal  meaning  which  tend  to  confuse  all 
writing  and  discourse,  it  is  an  affliction  as  harassing  as 
the  climate,  that  on  our  stage,  in  our  studios,  at  our 
public  and  pi-ivate  gatherings,  in  our  offices,  ware- 
houses, and  work- shops,  we  must  expect  to  hear  oui 
beloved  English  with  its  words  clipped,  its  vowels 
stretched  and  twisted,  its  phrases  of  acquiescence  and 
politeness,  of  cordiality,  dissidence,  or  argument,  deliv- 
ered always  in  the  wrong  tones,  like  ill-rendered  melo- 
dies, marred  beyond  recognition ;  that  there  should  be 
a  general  ambition  to  speak  every  language  except  our 
mother  Englisli,  which  persons  "of  style"  are  not 
ashamed  of  corrupting  with  slang,  false  foreign  equiv- 
alents, and  a  pronunciation  that  crushes  out  all  color 
from  the  vowels  and  jams  them  between  jostling  con- 
sonants. An  ancient  Greek  might  not  like  to  be  re- 
suscitated for  the  sake  of  hearing  Homer  read  in  our 
universities,  still  he  would  at  least  find  more  instruc- 
tive marvels  in  other  developments  to  be  witnessed  at 
those  institutions;  but  a  modern  Englishman  is  invited 
from  his  after-dinner  repose  to  hear  Shakspeare  deliv- 
ered under  circumstances  which  offer  no  other  novelty 
than  some  novelty  of  false  intonation,  some  new  dis- 
tribution of  strong  emphasis  on  prepositions,  some  new 
misconception  of  a  familiar  idiom.  "Well,  it  is  our  in- 
ertness that  is  in  fault,  our  carelessness  of  excellence, 
our  willino;  io;norance  of  the  treasures  that  lie  in  our 
national  heritage,  while  we  are  agape  after  what  is 
foreign,  though  it  may  be  only  a  vile  imitation  of  what 
is  native. 

10* 


226  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

This  marring  of  our  speech,  however,  is  a  minor  evil 
compared  with  what  must  follow  from  the  predomi- 
nance of  wealth-acquiring  immigrants,  whose  apprecia- 
tion of  our  political  and  social  life  must  often  be  as 
approximative  or  fatally  erroneous  as  their  delivery  of 
our  lano-uasre.  But  take  the  w^orst  issues — what  can 
we  do  to  hinder  them  ?  Are  we  to  adopt  the  exclu- 
siveness  for  which  we  have  punished  the  Chinese? 
Are  we  to  tear  tlie  glorious  flag  of  hospitality  which 
has  made  our  freedom  the  world-wide  blessing  of  the 
oppressed  ?  It  is  not  agreeable  to  find  foreign  accents 
and  stumbling  locutions  passing  from  tlie  piquant  ex- 
ception to  the  general  rule  of  discourse.  But  to  urge 
on  that  account  that  we  should  spike  away  the  peace- 
ful foreigner,  would  be  a  view  of  international  rehi- 
tions  not  in  the  lono;-run  favorable  to  tlie  interests  of 
our  fellow-countrymen ;  for  we  are  at  least  equal  to 
the  races  we  call  obtrusive  in  the  disposition  to  settle 
wherever  money  is  to  be  made  and  cheaply  idle  living 
to  be  found.  In  meetino-  the  national  evils  which  are 
brought  upon  us  by  the  onward  course  of  the  world, 
there  is  often  no  more  immediate  hope  or  resource 
than  that  of  striving  after  fuller  national  excellence, 
which  must  consist  in  the  moulding  of  more  excellent 
individual  natives.  The  tendency  of  things  is  toward 
the  quicker  or  slower  fusion  of  races.  It  is  impossible 
to  arrest  this  tendency :  all  we  can  do  is  to  moderate 
its  course  so  as  to  hinder  it  from  degrading  the  moral 
status  of  societies  by  a  too  rapid  effacement  of  those 
national  traditions  and  customs  which  are  the  lanirna^o 


THE  MODEEN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP  !        227 

of  the  national  genius  —  the  deep  suckers  of  healthy 
sentiment.  Such  moderatino;  and  o-uidance  of  inevita- 
ble  movement  is  worthy  of  all  effort.  And  it  is  in  this 
sense  that  the  modern  insistance  on  the  idea  of  Nation- 
alities has  value.  That  any  people  at  once  distinct  and 
coherent  enough  to  form  a  State  should  be  held  in  sub- 
jection by  an  alien  antipathetic  government,  has  been 
becoming  more  and  more  a  ground  of  sympathetic  in- 
dignation ;  and,  in  virtue  of  this,  at  least  one  great 
State  has  been  added  to  European  councils,  Nobody 
now  complains  of  the  result  in  this  case,  though  far- 
sighted  persons  see  the  need  to  limit  analogy  by  dis- 
crimination. We  have  to  consider  M-ho  are  the  stifled 
people  and  who  tlie  stiflers,  before  we  can  be  sure  of 
our  ground.  The  only  point  in  this  connection  on 
"which  Englishmen  are  agreed  is,  that  England  itself 
shall  not  be  subject  to  foreign  rule.  The  fiery  resolve 
to  resist  invasion,  though  with  an  improvised  array  of 
pitchforks,  is  felt  to  be  virtuous,  and  to  be  w^orthy  of 
a  historic  people.  Why  ?  Because  there  is  a  national 
life  in  our  veins.  Because  there  is  something  specifi- 
cally English  which  we  feel  to  be  supremely  Avorth 
striving  for,  worth  dying  for,  rather  than  living  to  re- 
nounce it.  Because  we  too  have  our  share — perhaps  a 
principal  share — in  that  spirit  of  separateness  which 
has  not  yet  done  its  work  in  the  education  of  mankind, 
which  has  created  the  varying  genius  of  luations,  and, 
like  the  Muses,  is  the  offspring  of  memory. 

Here,  as  everywhere  else,  the  human  task  seems  to 
bo  the  discerning  and  adjustment  of  opposite  claims. 


228  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

Bat  the  end  can  hardly  be  achieved  by  urging  contra- 
dictory reproaclies,  and  instead  of  laboring  after  dis- 
cernment as  a  preliminary  to  intervention,  letting  our 
zeal  burst  forth  according  to  a  capricious  selection,  first 
determined  accidentally,  and  afterward  justified  by  per- 
sonal predilection.  Not  only  John  Gilpin  and  his  wife, 
or  Edwin  and  Angelina,  seem  to  be  of  opinion  that 
their  preference  or  dislike  of  Russians,  Servians,  or 
Greeks,  consequent,  perhaps,  on  hotel  adventures,  has 
something  to  do  with  the  merits  of  the  Eastern  Ques- 
tion ;  even  in  a  higher  range  of  intellect  and  enthusi- 
asm we  find  a  distribution  of  sympathy  or  pity  for  suf- 
ferers of  different  blood  or  votaries  of  differino;  relis;- 
ions,  strangely  unaccountable  on  any  other  ground  than 
a  fortuitous  direction  of  study  or  trivial  circumstances 
of  travel.  With  some  even  admirable  persons  one  is 
never  quite  sure  of  any  particular  being  included  un- 
der a  general  term.  A  provincial  physician,  it  is  said, 
once  ordering  a  lady  patient  not  to  eat  salad,  was  ask- 
ed pleadingly  by  the  affectionate  husband  whether  she 
might  eat  lettuce,  or  cresses,  or  radishes.  The  physi- 
cian had  too  rashly  believed  in  the  comprehensiveness 
of  the  word  "salad,"  just  as  we,  if  not  enlightened  by 
experience,  might  believe  in  the  all-embracing  breadth 
of  "sympathy  w^ith  the  injured  and  oppressed."  What 
mind  can  exliaust  the  grounds  of  exception  which  lie 
in  each  particular  case?  There  is  understood  to  be  a 
peculiar  odor  from  the  negro  body,  and  we  know  that 
some  persons,  too  rationalistic  to  feel  bound  by  the 
curse   on  Ham,  used  to  hint   very  strongly  that  this 


THE  MODERN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP  !       229 

odoi-  determined  the  question  on  the  side  of  negro 
slavery. 

And  this  is  the  usual  level  of  thinking  in  polite 
society  concerning  the  Jews.  Apart  from  theological 
purposes,  it  seems  to  be  held  surprising  that  anybody 
should  take  an  interest  in  the  history  of  a  people  whose 
literature  has  furnished  all  our  devotional  language  ; 
and  if  any  refei^ence  is  made  to  their  past  or  future 
destinies,  some  hearer  is  sure  to  state,  as  a  relevant  fact 
which  may  assist  our  judgment,  that  she,  for  her  part, 
is  not  fond  of  them,  having  known  a  Mr.  Jacobson  who 
was  very  unpleasant,  or  that  he,  for  his  part,  thinks 
meanly  of  them  as  a  race,  though,  on  inquiry,  you  find 
that  he  is  so  little  acquainted  with  their  characteris- 
tics that  he  is  astonished  to  learn  how  many  persons 
whom  he  has  blindly  admired  and  applauded  are  Jews 
to  the  backbone.  Again,  men  who  consider  themselves 
in  the  very  van  of  modern  advancement,  knowing  his- 
tory and  the  latest  philosophies  of  history,  indicate  their 
contemptuous  surprise  that  any  one  should  entertain 
the  destiny  of  the  Jews  as  a  worthy  subject,  by  refer- 
rino-  to  Moloch  and  their  own  ao;reement  with  the  the- 
ory  that  the  religion  of  Jehovah  was  merely  a  trans- 
formed Moloch-worship,  while  in  the  same  breath  they 
are  gloi'ifying  "  civilization  "  as  a  transformed  tribal 
existence  of  which  some  lineaments  are  traceable  in 
grim  marriage  customs  of  the  native  Australians.  Are 
these  erudite  persons  prepared  to  insist  that  the  name 
"  Father "  should  no  longer  have  any  sanctity  for  us, 
because  in  their  view  of  likelihood  our  Aryan  ancestors 


230  THEOPHRASTUS   SUCH. 

■were  mere  improvers  on  a  state  of  things  in  which  no- 
body knew  his  own  father  ? 

For  less  theoretic  men,  ambitious  to  be  regarded  as 
practical  politicians,  the  value  of  the  Hebrew  race  has 
been  measured  bj  their  unfavorable  opinion  of  a  prime 
minister  who  is  a  Jew  by  lineage.  But  it  is  possible 
to  form  a  very  ugly  opinion  as  to  the  scrupulousness  of 
Walpole  or  of  Chatham ;  and  in  asy  case  I  think  Eng- 
lishmen would  refuse  to  accept  the  character  and  do- 
ings of  those  eighteenth-century  statesmen  as  the  stand- 
ard of  value  for  the  English  people  and  the  part  they 
liave  to  play  in  the  fortunes  of  mankind. 

If  we  are  to  consider  the  future  of  the  Jews  at  all, 
it  seems  reasonable  to  take,  as  a  preliminary  question, 
Are  they  destined  to  complete  fusion  with  the  peoples 
among  whom  they  are  dispersed,  losing  every  remnant 
of  a  distinctive  consciousness  as  Jews?  or.  Are  there 
in  the  breadth  and  intensity  with  which  the  feeling  of 
separateness,  or  what  we  may  call  the  organized  mem- 
ory of  a  national  consciousness,  actually  exists  in  the 
world-wide  Jewish  communities  —  the  seven  millions 
scattered  from  east  to  west?— and  again.  Are  there  in 
the  political  relations  of  the  world,  the  conditions  pres- 
ent or  approaching  for  the  restoration  of  a  Jewish  State 
planted  on  the  old  ground  as  a  centre  of  national  feel- 
ing, a  source  of  dignifying  protection,  a  special  channel 
for  special  energies  which  may  contribute  some  add- 
ed form  of  national  genius,  and  an  added  voice  in  the 
councils  of  the  world  ? 

They  are  among  us  everywhere:  it  is  useless  to  say 


THE  MODERN  HEP  !  HEP  !  HEP !        231 

we  are  not  fond  of  them.  Perhaps  we  are  not  fond  of 
proletaries  and  their  tendency  to  form  Unions,  but  the 
world  is  not  therefore  to  be  rid  of  them.  If  we  wish 
to  free  ourselves  from  the  inconveniences  that  we  have 
to  complain  of,  whether  in  proletaries  or  in  Jews,  our 
best  course  is  to  encourage  all  means  of  improving 
these  neighbors  who  elbow  us  in  a  thickening  crowd, 
and  of  sending  their  incomraodions  energies  into  be- 
neficent channels.  Why  are  we  so  eager  for  the  dig- 
nity of  certain  populations  of  whom,  perhaps,  we  have 
never  seen  a  single  specimen,  and  of  whose  history, 
legend,  or  literature  we  have  been  contentedly  igno- 
rant for  ages,  while  we  sneer  at  the  notion  of  a  reno- 
vated national  dignity  for  the  Jews,  whose  waj^s  of 
thinking  and  whose  very  verbal  forms  are  on  our  lips 
in  every  prayer  which  we  end  with  an  Amen  ?  Some 
of  us  consider  this  question  dismissed  when  they  have 
said  that  the  wealthiest  Jews  have  no  desire  to  forsake 
their  European  palaces  and  go  to  live  in  Jerusalem. 
But  in  a  return  from  exile,  in  the  restoration  of  a  peo- 
ple, the  question  is  not  whether  certain  rich  men  will 
choose  to  remain  behind,  but  whether  there  will  be 
found  worthy  men  who  will  choose  to  lead  the  return. 
Plenty  of  prosperous  Jews  remained  in  Babylon  when 
Ezra  marshalled  his  band  of  forty  thousand  and  began 
a  new  glorious  epoch  in  the  history  of  his  race,  making 
the  preparation  for  that  epoch  in  the  history  of  tlie 
world  which  has  been  held  glorious  enough  to  be  dated 
from  for  evermore.  The  hinge  of  possibility  is  simply 
the  existence  of  an  adequate  community  of  feeling,  as 


232  THEOPHRASTUS   SLX'H. 

well  as  wide-spread  need,  in  the  Jewish  race,  and  the 
hope  that  among  its  finer  specimens  there  may  arise 
some  men  of  instruction  and  ardent  public  spirit,  some 
new  Ezras,  some  modern  Maccabees,  who  will  know 
how  to  use  all  favoring  outward  conditions,  how  to 
triumph  by  heroic  example  over  the  indifference  of 
their  fellows  and  the  scorn  of  their  foes,  and  will  stead- 
fastly set  their  faces  toward  making  their  people  once 
more  one  among  the  nations. 

Formerly,  evangelical  orthodoxy  was  prone  to  dwell 
on  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy  in  the  "restoration  of 
the  Jews."  Such  interpretation  of  the  prophets  is  less 
in  vogue  now.  The  dominant  mode  is  to  insist  on  a 
Christianity  that  disowns  its  origin,  that  is  not  a  sub- 
stantial growth  having  a  genealogy,  but  is  a  vaporous 
reflex  of  modern  notions.  Tlie  Christ  of  Matthew  had 
the  heart  of  a  Jew :  "  Go  ye  first  to  the  lost  sheep  of 
the  house  of  Israel."  The  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
had  the  heart  of  a  Jew :  "  For  I  could  wish  that  my- 
self were  accursed  from  Christ  for  my  brethren,  my 
kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh :  who  are  Israelites ;  to 
whom  pertaineth  the  adoption,  and  the  glory,  and  the 
covenants,  and  the  giving  of  the  law,  and  the  service 
of  God,  and  the  promises;  whoso  are  the  fathers,  and 
of  whom,  as  concerning  the  flesh,  Christ  came."  Mod- 
ern apostles,  extolling  Christianity,  are  found  using  a 
different  tone  :  they  prefer  the  mediaeval  cry  translated 
into  modern  phrase.  But  the  medioeval  cry  too  was 
in  substance  very  ancient — more  ancient  than  the  days 
of  Augustus.     Pacrans  in  successive  asi-es  said,"The.-e 


THE    MODERN   HEP!    HEP !    HEP !  233 

people  are  unlike  iis,  and  refuse  to  be  made  like  us : 
let  us  punish  them."  The  Jews  were  steadfast  in  their 
separateness,  and  through  that  separateness  Christi- 
anity was  born.  A  modern  book  on  Liberty  has  main- 
tained that  from  the  freedom  of  individual  men  to  per- 
sist in  idiosyncrasies  the  world  may  be  enriched.  Why 
should  we  not  apply  this  argument  to  the  idiosyncrasy 
of  a  nation,  and  pause  in  our  haste  to  hoot  it  down  ? 
There  is  still  a  great  function  for  the  steadfastness  of 
the  Jew :  not  that  he  should  shut  out  the  utmost  illu- 
mination which  knowledge  can  throw  on  his  national 
history,  but  that  he  should  cherish  the  store  of  inheri- 
tance which  that  history  has  left  him.  Every  Jew 
should  be  conscious  that  he  is  one  of  a  multitude 
possessing  common  objects  of  piety  in  the  immortal 
achievements  and  immortal  sori-ows  of  ancestors  who 
have  transmitted  to  them  a  physical  and  mental  t}pe 
strong  enough,  eminent  enough  in  faculties,  pregnant 
enough  with  peculiar  promise,  to  constitute  a  new  be- 
neficent individuality  among  the  nations,  and,  by  con- 
futing the  traditions  of  scorn,  nobly  avenge  the  wrongs 
done  to  their  fathers. 

There  is  a  sense  in  which  the  worthy  child  of  a  na- 
tion that  has  brought  forth  illustrious  prophets,  high 
and  unique  among  the  poets  of  the  world,  is  bound  by 
their  visions. 

Is  bound  ? 

Yes,  for  the  effective  bond  of  human  action  is  feel- 
ing, and  the  worthy  child  of  a  people  owning  the  triple 
name  of  Hebrew,  Israelite,  and  Jew,  feels  his  kinship 


234  .  THEOPHRASTUS  SUCH. 

with  the  glories  and  the  sorrows,  the  degradation  and 
the  possible  renovation  of  his  national  family. 

Will  any  one  teach  the  nullification  of  this  feeling 
and  call  his  doctrine  a  philosophy?  He  will  teach  a 
blinding  superstition — the  superstition  that  a  theory  of 
human  well-being  can  be  constructed  in  disregard  of 
the  influences  which  have  made  us  human. 


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